


Heart, Mind and Soul

by Sioux



Series: Once More With Feeling [2]
Category: MIT - Fandom, The Bill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sioux/pseuds/Sioux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Once More With Feeling</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart, Mind and Soul

Mickey stopped off at his own flat to get changed and pack an overnight bag then he made his way over to Craig’s. Traffic had eased a little so he made reasonable time but still, by the time he drew up outside the house, he could see Craig’s car parked up and there was a light on in the lounge and one shining out through a chink in the bedroom curtains.  
He used Craig’s spare key to let himself in, shouting as he did so.  
“Craig?”  
“No, it’s a burglar,” Craig remarked dryly, coming out of the kitchen with a full glass of wine in his hand.  
Mickey took a careful look at his lover. He looked different somehow. Yes, he had got changed out of his uniform but his face looked pale making his eyes look darker than ever.  
“Everything OK?” he asked handing him the carrier bags containing the food.  
Craig shrugged and took the food into the kitchen.  
“You want to take your bag upstairs?” he said from the kitchen, accompanied by the rattling of carrier bags.  
Mickey shrugged out of his leather jacket, hung it up then sprinted to the bedroom and dumped his bag, not bothering to unpack it. By the look on Craig’s face and his strange silence he wasn’t altogether sure if he would be staying.  
Craig met him at the bottom of the stairs with a full glass and a long gentle kiss.  
“Hi,” he said softly, looking down into Mickey’s eyes.  
“Hi yourself. Are you alright?” Mickey asked again, taking a sip of the wine.  
“Yeah. Long day,” he replied looking away. “Won’t be a minute,” he added, taking the steps two at a time.  
Mickey wandered into the kitchen, put the glass down and busied himself getting the necessary pans out and putting them on the hob. He washed and dried his hands then began to prepare their meal. The sound of the loo flushing upstairs sounded very loud among the small noises he was making shelling the peas.  
Two cool hands rested on his hips as warm lips nuzzled his throat and neck. He giggled when Craig touched a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, just under his ear. The hands moved up under his arms and then went to his shirt buttons, pulling the tail out of his jeans then pushing the garment off his shoulders. It was a tight pull to get the fastened cuffs over his hands but they managed without too much damage. Mickey was still laughing when Craig pulled him roughly around to face him, until he saw the deadly serious expression on Craig’s face. Burying his hands in his hair Craig tilted his face up to the right angle and proceeded to devour his mouth in hot, passionate kisses, invading his mouth and suckling on his tongue.  
“Take your shoes off,” Craig whispered hoarsely.  
“What?” Mickey asked, too caught up in this sweet assault to be listening well.  
“Shoes. Take ‘em off.”  
Quickly he toed off his loafers and his socks without missing a beat, then he worked his hands under the hem of Craig’s t-shirt and helped him remove it. The sensation of hair roughened skin against his chest made him moan in appreciation. Seconds later he moaned even louder as a cool draught and a warm hand landed on his freed and aching erection.  
He pulled away in the direction of the stairs and bedroom but Craig pulled him back, still kissing him.  
“Craig. Craig we haven’t got anything down here!” Mickey said urgently.  
Craig put his hand in his jeans pocket, pulled out a tube and two foil wrapped condoms and put them on the work-surface next to them.  
Sighing with relief Mickey responded to Craig with much increased ardour.  
Mickey struggled to undo Craig’s jeans fast; he wanted to get to as much skin as humanly possible.  
Craig slid down his body, leaving open-mouthed kisses along the slight hair on his chest. His hot, wet mouth descended on his cock, sucked and pulled off again, leaving him writhing in a steel grasp. He was sure there would be bruises on his hips later but for now that was a minor concern. Mickey’s main concern was how to get Craig’s talented lips wrapped around his cock again. He didn’t have to wait long; Craig was intent on his goal. He licked him from root to crown and then applied his tongue to the task. Mickey felt his legs nudged apart and cool, silky fingers entering him, stretching and preparing him. And Craig had a very knowledgeable touch.   
Mickey was flying. The fingers inside him stroked over and over his magic place. He could feel phantom tingles along the sides of his legs running up and over his hips. He pushed against Craig’s shoulder, trying to warn him but Craig wasn’t taking the heavy hint. He opened his eyes. The sight of Craig diligently applying himself to Mickey’s pleasure was his undoing. An inarticulate yell was all the warning he was able to give before his world shifted and he was spilling his seed in long, lush waves. Whilst he was still seeing stars Craig turned him, his erection feeling like a burning brand along his hip then he was pushing inside with no more than a slight burning tingle for Mickey, he was so relaxed.   
Craig was making this last, moving slowly and steadily, murmuring nonsense and kissing his shoulders. Mickey pushed back and tightened his muscles slightly. It hurt a little but Craig had done this for him once and the sensations were indescribable. It eroded Craig’s iron self-control a little; he groaned and pushed back quicker. Mickey waited and did it again, moving his hand down to touch himself. He couldn’t believe he had got hard again this fast. Craig knocked his hand away and stroked him, squeezing and relaxing, his gasping breath sounding loud from behind. The gentle stimulation wasn’t quite enough for Mickey though, he needed more; he wrapped his hand around Craig’s and guided his movements. He felt Craig freeze, hold his breath and try to bury himself as far into his body as he could get then the feeling of warmth as he came inside him, the latex allowing the exchange of heat but not fluids. Craig’s hand contracted in a reflex action sending Mickey hurtling over the edge for the second time in less than an hour.

Mickey came back to the sensation of being squashed by a hot, trembling jelly. His body heat had warmed the work-surface under him; his head was resting on his folded arms whilst Craig’s arms were wrapped around his waist, holding him tight.  
He tried to straighten up but Craig’s hot, heavy, breathing weight wrapped around him made it difficult.  
“Craig, Craig,” he called softly.  
“Mmm,”   
“Let me up.”  
Slowly Craig straightened up, releasing Mickey. He finally took the used condom off but made no attempt to dispose of it. He still didn’t look quite with it. Mickey took his hand and removed the used sheath from his grasp, dumped it in the kitchen bin and led Craig up to bed. Without saying a word Craig got into bed, immediately reaching out for Mickey when he got in the other side. Craig seemed more than content to snuggle with him and doze for a while.  
Mickey stroked his back; his hands sometimes straying to his hair until Craig gradually came back to life.  
“What happened after I left you at the nick?” Mickey asked quietly.  
Craig shrugged and said,  
“Nothing.”  
Mickey stared at Craig’s closed eyes. He knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that he had just been lied to. The casual untruth landing between them like a solid wall of ice.  
Abruptly Mickey flung back the duvet and got out of bed.  
“Where are you going?” Craig asked, feeling the jerky, angry movements then seeing Mickey picking up his overnight bag.  
“If you’re going to start lying to me I’m going home!” he snarled.  
Craig sat up in bed, his knees bent and his eyes glittering in the half-light from the landing. His position radiated wrath. Then suddenly all the fight seemed to desert him. His shoulders slumping forward as he rested his forearms on his knees.  
“I’m sorry Mickey,” he said quietly. He held out his hand, palm up. “Forgive me?”  
Mickey hesitated then took in the defeated posture. He dropped his bag and slowly got back into bed, sitting up and glaring at Craig.  
“Don’t lie to me,” he scolded. “You told me you’d always be honest with me.”  
“I know. I’m sorry.”  
Craig pulled him down so they were lying facing each other. He leaned forward slightly and kissed Mickey’s unresponsive lips. When he drew back Mickey could see the hurt behind his eyes. This man would be the death of him, he thought to himself.  
He held Craig’s head between his hands and kissed him gently and thoroughly.  
“Now talk to me,” he said.  
Craig sighed and said,  
“Remember I told you I was waiting for some papers from Kensal Green Nick?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Well the PC who turned up with them saw us in my office.”  
“He saw us kissing?”  
Craig nodded.  
Mickey laughed. “So what? You’re out and proud and I couldn’t care less, what’s the problem? He isn’t trying to threaten us, is he?”  
“No, he’s not threatening us.”  
“At worst we’ll both get a slight bollocking for not being super professional in your office.”  
“The PC who brought the papers in was Luke Ashton.”  
“Luke? That’s definitely not a problem! Not after what had happened to him with his bitchy wife at Jim Carver’s wedding.”  
"What happened?"  
"She outed him to everyone at the wedding; most of the relief was there."  
“She did what?”  
“She’d had a few, got hold of the microphone at Jim’s wedding and told everyone the reason they had split up is because Luke’s gay.”  
“Hadn’t heard that.”  
“Felt sorry for the poor bloke,” Mickey continued on oblivious. “There were a few rumours around that he’d slept with other blokes before he married her….”  
Mickey stopped, feeling the unmistakable tension radiating from Craig.  
He tilted Craig's face so he was looking right at him.  
“You? You slept with Luke Ashton?”  
Craig nodded miserably.  
“Bloody ‘ell! When?”  
“On his stag night,” Craig whispered.   
Mickey was about to laugh until he saw Craig’s stricken face. When there was no more information forthcoming he said,  
“Well don’t leave it there. What happened?”  
Hesitantly Craig began.  
“When Reg had been found after he’d been kidnapped, Luke came onto me in my office. He kissed me then ran. I…tried to give him time but he accused me of stalking him and then said he’d kissed me to make fun of me.”  
Mickey tightened his arms about him in sympathy.  
"He came on to you?"  
Craig nodded then continued,  
“Then he started going out with Kerry and blowing hot and cold with me. He got drunk on his stag night so I ended up looking after him and taking him to his hotel room…” Craig stopped speaking.  
“He came onto you again and you ended up in bed?” Mickey asked into the sudden silence.  
He nodded.  
“Gina caught us the next morning in bed. She made it all sound very sordid. Then Luke got up, got dressed, told me he was definitely straight and went and married Kerry.”  
Mickey breathed out a long sigh, remembering his own antics at Luke and Kerry’s reception with Kerry’s bridesmaid. It certainly didn’t seem politic to mention that at present.  
“That wasn’t the last time you saw him though. It can’t have been, you were both still at Sunhill when he came back from honeymoon.”  
“Last time I saw him was in hospital after I got beaten up. Kerry was pregnant by then. She saw Luke holding my hand and went to Gina. Gina and Luke forced me to lie to Kerry. We all told her I’d tried to take advantage of Luke on his stag night but that nothing had happened.”  
“Gina was in on this? What was she doing interfering?”  
“She was trying to protect Kerry and the baby. Keep them together as a family for the sake of the child.”  
“Which didn’t happen anyway. She could have saved her breath and left it alone.”  
“She didn’t know that at the time, though.”  
“So what did PC Ashton say this evening?”  
“He apologised. For hurting me.”  
Mickey swallowed hard, hearing what hadn’t been said.  
“Sounds like he still has feelings for you.”  
Craig shrugged. “Not sure what feelings he ever did have for me.”  
Mickey waited a few seconds to let the pain in his chest subside before he asked,  
“Are you still in love with him?”  
There was a long silence before Craig answered as honestly as he could,  
“I don’t know.”  
Mickey bit his tongue on his next question. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Craig felt for him now. After watching Craig’s expression as he spoke about Luke, Mickey knew he never wore that look when he was with him, not even when they were making love. He refused to call it having sex; he knew the difference between the acts now.

Talking about his past had been cathartic for Craig. He felt the tension and bad mood ebb away as he was lovingly held by Mickey.   
Mickey heard Craig’s breathing pattern change as he fell asleep. Sleep didn’t come easily to him though. He watched Craig sleeping for hours trying to sort through his options in his mind. Craig didn’t feel the same way about him as he felt about Craig, that much was obvious. Thinking like a detective he knew he needed to find out how Luke felt about Craig, which might be a little more problematic but not beyond his means.  
In the predawn light Craig reached for Mickey and sleepily made love with him again, then slept deeply again until he felt Mickey getting out of bed.  
“What time is it?”  
“Just before five, what time are you on duty?”  
“Six,” he replied stretching. “Share a shower?”  
“As long as it’s just a shower,” Mickey replied, trying to stop limping towards the bathroom.  
Craig grinned and followed him, promising,   
“I’ll be gentle with you.”

***************

“Luke?” Mickey asked, sounding unsure.  
“Mickey! What are you doing here?”  
“Just in the area. You working near here?” Mickey asked, knowing perfectly well this was the local for Kensal Green’s relief and he’d been in here at various times trying to catch up with Luke Ashton.   
“Yeah. I'm stationed at Kensal Green.”  
“Oh right! What you having?”  
“I’ll have a pint of lager, thanks.”  
Luke was surprised to see Mickey, especially here.  
Mickey got the drinks in and motioned Luke to a table a little distance away from the main block of police officers crowding around the bar.  
“How long have you been here?”  
“Nearly a year now. You at Park Rise?”  
“Park Rise? No, I’m with MIT now.”  
Luke looked suitably impressed.  
“Well done. Sorry I just thought when… “ Luke trailed off, aware he was about to put his foot in it.  
Mickey grinned at him over the top of his glass.  
“You saw Craig and me together. He mentioned you’d seen us in his office.”  
“I didn’t know…. I didn’t realise that you and he were…,” Luke coughed, then asked, “How long have you two been together?”  
“We’re not.”  
“What? But I saw ….”  
“I’m not his boyfriend, Luke. It’s a bit more casual than that,” he replied desperately wishing that wasn’t the case.  
“Oh?”  
Mickey could see Luke’s interest getting keener by the second. Unless he had suddenly lost his people reading skills, Luke Ashton was still very much interested in Craig Gilmore.  
“We get together from time to time. He’s a great bloke, helped me out when I needed it a little while ago.”  
“Yeah, he is. The best,” Luke replied quietly, his eyes shining with memories and sadness.  
Mickey felt like he was going to throw up but he persevered. He raised his eyebrows at Luke.  
“Oh, were you and Craig…..?”  
Luke blushed as he said,  
“Very briefly.”  
“Didn’t work out?” he asked sympathetically.  
“I didn’t give it a chance to work out. Wasn’t really ready for a gay relationship then.”  
Mickey nodded then adroitly turned the conversation so they were talking shop for a while.

He had had a bad feeling about this but he hadn’t been able to help himself, he had needed to know how Luke felt about Craig. However it hadn’t helped at all. In fact it had made him feel much worse.   
A few minutes later Mickey’s mobile phone rang; it was Viv Friend calling him in for an emergency briefing. Making his excuses to Luke he left, heading through the alley at the side of the pub to where he had parked his car. He had nearly made it through the alley when the nausea he had felt inside the pub returned with full force, and he was violently sick against the wall. Him and his damned doggedness, always wanting to know all the facts. This time it hadn't helped his peace of mind, or his belly. After he had emptied his stomach he felt marginally better and continued on to work without further incident.

Work occupied him for weeks. He felt very guilty after he had to break a date with Craig for the fifth time in as many weeks. Craig didn’t sound very happy at all and Mickey missed him so badly but there was no way he could make it all the way across London to see him. Regretfully they decided to play it by ear. The next time one of them was free they would ring and try to meet up.  
The next time was nearly three weeks later, very early in the morning. The case had just been cracked and Mickey was feeling very pleased with himself. He also had three days off. Making a quick decision he set off to Craig’s, intending to ring when he got nearer. Checking his watch as he drew up outside, he saw a light on in the bedroom. Good, Craig was awake. Taking his key out, he let himself in. Craig was just coming out of the kitchen in a bathrobe, his hair wet, as another man was running down the stairs. All three men stood in a frozen tableau.  
“I really should have rung first, shouldn’t I?” Mickey said finally, in a voice which didn’t seem like his at all.  
Luke looked from Craig to Mickey, not knowing what to do or say, his eyes looking huge.  
“Craig, I ….”  
“See you later, Luke,” Craig said decisively, not taking his eyes off Mickey.  
“It’s alright Craig. I’ll go,” Mickey said at the same moment.  
“No!” Craig said.  
Luke grabbed his jacket and scuttled past them both, shutting the front door quietly behind him.  
Craig moved to stand in front of a very dejected Mickey.  
“You serious about each other?” Mickey asked.  
“A bit early to tell. Believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve slept with him since Sunhill.”  
Mickey nodded, still not meeting his eyes. He could smell Craig’s shower gel and shampoo. Small droplets of water caught in his chest hair glistened where the ‘V’ of the bathrobe gaped.  
“I’m really sorry, Mickey. I thought you’d lost interest…”  
Mickey quickly covered Craig’s lips with his fingers.  
“You never promised me forever, you haven’t done anything wrong. I should have said something sooner.”  
Craig frowned down at him, not really understanding his cryptic sentences.  
Mickey replaced his fingers with his lips. Craig tenderly kissed him back, until he tasted salt on Mickey’s lips. He drew back to see his blue eyes brimming with tears.  
Mickey saw understanding dawn in Craig’s eyes before he turned and ran, unable to face pity from Craig. That would hurt far too much. He wrenched the door open and fled, hardly hearing Craig shouting his name after him. He jumped into his car, not bothering with his seat belt, and pulled out in front of another car. Horn blaring the second car managed to stop in time as Mickey roared away, hardly able to see through his streaming eyes.  
Craig watched until he could no longer see Mickey’s car then slowly went back inside and shut the door. Why hadn’t he noticed Mickey Webb had fallen in love with him? Or more to the point why hadn’t Mickey said anything? He waited until he was sure Mickey would no longer be driving then rang his mobile number. It went unanswered. Then his voicemail service cut in. After the fourth time Craig left a message asking Mickey to ring him back; he wanted to talk to him.   
There was no returned telephone call.

Craig went to work with a heavy heart. He tried MIT but was told DC Webb was on leave. He tried his home telephone number and his mobile several times more during the day, but neither was answered. After his shift, he changed into civvies at top speed and set off to Mickey’s home. There was no sign of life in his flat and leaning on the buzzer had no effect. 

Mickey lay on his back on top of his bed, his hands behind his head listening to his door buzzer drone on and on, just as he had listened to his mobile and his land line telephone ring many times that day. He continued staring at the ceiling not doing anything and feeling completely miserable.

Driving slowly back Craig let himself into his own home. Amongst the post piled at the back of the door was an envelope without a stamp. Inside a single sheet of paper was wrapped around his front door key.

Craig, 

Sorry, forgot to return this to you this morning.   
Luke still has very strong feelings for you and I know you’re still in love with him. Be happy.  
Please don’t try and contact me for a while. I need some time and space.

M.

 

Craig read and re-read the message then crumpled the sheet of paper into a ball. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.  
“Oh Mickey! I didn’t mean to hurt you, love!” he whispered to the silent hallway.

 

**********

 

“Mickey, Rosie, I want you to have a word with uniform. Check through their statements and then pull all details on Paul Revere and his gang. I don’t want this getting out of hand, OK?”  
“Ma’am,” Mickey replied crisply.  
Rosie simply followed her colleague out of DI Friend’s office. She was tired and not in the best of moods and she wasn’t feeling too well either.  
“God knows why they’ve got us on this,” Rosie whinged on the way out after collecting her coat.  
“Because we’re the best!” Mickey turned back to her and laughed.  
“Because we’re at the bottom of the shit heap, more likely.”  
“Well, that too,” he agreed. “You want to take Park Rise and I’ll tackle Woodmere Road?”  
“Thought you’d want to see your mate Gilmore at Park Rise?”   
“Nah, it’s alright, I can see Craig anytime,” Mickey lied.  
“Yeah, OK then.”  
They split up, each taking separate cars out to their designated nick. The body of Paul Revere, drug dealer and pimp, had been found between the boundaries and officers from both police stations had been dispatched to deal.  
Mickey had no intention of going near Park Rise or Kensal Green if he could help it. He still felt a dull ache of grief and the hurt of absence whenever he thought about Craig. He had dated a couple of women and a man he’d met in a pub whilst on another case but none of them had come anywhere near filling the void which remained where his heart used to be. The sages and philosophers were right though; whilst time didn’t mend a broken heart it helped the bearer get used to dealing with the pain. After four and a half months of not seeing Craig, Mickey reckoned he was doing pretty well. Life no longer looked like one long desolate road going nowhere. Sometimes he could see a little light on the horizon. Thinking back he wondered if Jack Meadows had felt as bad as he had after Mickey had interfered with his life in regard to Rachel Heath. He’d wondered that many times over the past months but Jack had never said anything, and he had never alluded to the woman either. It seemed like the perfect example of least said soonest mended.

He had just reached Woodmere Road when his mobile rang. Parking up in the visitor's area around the back he switched off the engine and answered his ‘phone.  
“Mickey?”  
“Yes Ma’am?”  
“I’m sorry Mickey, you’re going to have to do Park Rise as well as Woodmere Road, Rosie’s just passed out in reception at Park Rise. It sounds like she’s got food poisoning.”  
‘Oh no!’ reverberated around his head.  
“I’ll tell them to expect you later on this afternoon, OK?”  
“Yes Ma’am,” he replied, not having any choice in the matter.  
Fuck it! He thumped the steering wheel, hard, with both hands. There seemed to be no way he could avoid this. 

After calming down he got out of the car and went to re-take statements from PC’s Pausy and Tindell. It didn’t take long to take down the relevant details from the two PC’s. They were a pleasant pair and more than happy to help then he was back in the car heading, unwillingly, over to Park Rise.

The sergeant on duty at Park Rise wasn’t Craig Gilmore.   
As soon as Mickey saw the grizzled head of Petersen bending over his desk he breathed a sigh of relief.  
Petersen took him down to an interview room and shipped in WPC Reid and PC Simmons then Petersen came down to give his statement too. After Mickey had taken down their information, Bill Petersen took him into an empty office with a pile of records of Revere’s known associates. The older Sergeant had made things very easy and straightforward for him.  
He had a very productive morning and early afternoon, which was made even better by the fact he hadn’t seen Craig at all. Bill popped his head around the door to enquire,  
“Do you want a cuppa, lad?”  
“Yes please Sarge!” Mickey replied. He was parched, not having had chance to get a drink since early morning. When Petersen left the office Mickey grinned. He found it strange that Petersen still retained a very strong Yorkshire accent despite being stationed in London for the last twenty-eight years. His accent was even stronger than Jack Meadows’.  
A few minutes later the door opened again. Mickey lifted his head with a smile of welcome for the expected tea. Instead his face froze when he saw Craig standing in the doorway.  
“Hello Mickey,” Craig said quietly.  
“Hi,” Mickey croaked. It suddenly seemed very difficult to breathe past the huge boulder which had taken up residence in his chest. He was unable to take his eyes off Craig’s thin, pale and pinched face. He looked terrible, as if he hadn’t slept or eaten in a week. Immediately his mind supplied reasons why he might look like that and he blushed. Luke must be a very demanding partner.  
“You’re looking well.”  
“You’re not!” Mickey’s mouth said immediately before his mind could jump in and censor the remark.   
Craig raised an eyebrow at the bald statement.  
“Oh jeez! I’m sorry Craig, that didn’t come out like I meant it to. Are you alright, you don’t look that well?”  
Craig smiled.  
“I’m OK. Not getting much sleep…” he closed his eyes as he realised how that would sound.   
Mickey looked down at the desk, his lips curling in a mirthless smile.  
“I suppose I asked for that one, didn’t I?”  
“No, you didn’t. I didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded either. Luke likes clubbing, he drags me off at every opportunity.”  
“I didn’t think you liked nightclubs,” Mickey said carefully.  
“I don’t!”  
Their eyes met across the desk and both men burst out laughing.  
“I’ve missed that,” Craig said when they’d both calmed down.  
“What?”  
“Your sense of humour.”  
“Luke likes a laugh and a joke, doesn’t he?”  
Craig wrinkled his nose before saying, “It’s a bit different.”  
Paradise beginning to show the cracks? Mickey wondered.  
There was an awkward silence before Mickey asked,  
“Am I in your way? Is this your office now?”  
“No. I just came in to pick up some papers. I’m going off duty now.”  
“I’ll get out of your way then…”  
“No, you don’t need to. I just need this folder.” He picked up a manilla folder from a tray but made no attempt to leave.  
“How’ve you been keeping?” Craig asked.  
“OK. You?”  
“OK.”  
Two very non-committal answers.  
Petersen bustled back in with a cup of tea for Mickey.  
“There you are, lad. Hello Craig. Hope you don’t mind, Mickey needed somewhere to work so I put him in here as you were down in custody.”  
“No, it’s no problem Bill.”  
Petersen smiled and patted Craig on the arm as he left the office.  
Craig cleared his throat then asked.  
“You nearly finished?”  
“Yes, nearly. I'll be out of your hair soon."  
"I didn't mean that. Ummm, just wondered, if you're not doing anything else, if you fancy going for a drink?" Craig stammered his way through the invitation.  
Mickey licked his lips.  
"Not sure that's such a good idea, Craig," he replied quietly, lowering his eyes.  
"I just meant as friends, nothing more!" he was quick to point out.  
"I didn't think you meant anything else. Just not too sure I can manage being just friends with you." He raised his head and smiled to soften his words. "Sorry Craig." Quickly he applied his eyes to his work, feeling the burn of incipient tears.  
Craig was nervously rolling the folder up in his hands.  
"I'm sorry Mickey. I really didn't mean to hurt you."  
"I know you didn't," he replied, still writing furiously.  
He heard the door close quietly as Craig left. Sitting back in his chair he wiped his hand across his face and breathed deeply. Even after this length of time, Craig still had the ability to affect him deeply.

Mickey finished doing what he needed but didn’t immediately leave.  
What if Craig just wanted someone to talk to, as a friend? He didn't look physically well; maybe there was something more? Given the way that Craig had helped him in the past perhaps he'd been rather selfish refusing to go for a drink like that. OK, it would be tough on himself but a little payback would be in order.  
Picking up his mobile he scrolled through the names, found the one he wanted and hit dial. The voice on the other end was full of wonder and hope as he said,  
"Hi."  
"Hi. Is the offer of a drink still open, or have I lost my chance?"  
There was a few seconds silence then Craig replied in a warmer voice,  
"It's still open."  
"You ready now?"  
"Meet you outside reception in five minutes?"  
"OK. Bye."  
Gathering his things up, Mickey sprinted down to his car, left them in the back but just as we was about to drive around to the front of the building Craig emerged. He flashed his headlights to attract his attention. Craig smiled and came across.  
"Where to?" he asked as Craig was fastening his seat belt.  
"Out of the gates, turn left, next right and then right again."  
They were both quiet on the short journey.  
Settling themselves at a table towards the back of the pub with their drinks Mickey asked,  
"So which clubs have you been frequenting?"  
"Too many to name! At least he doesn't expect me to dance all night."  
Mickey smiled.  
"So what else have you been getting up to, apart from dancing the night away?"  
"Working mainly. You?"  
"The same. I sound like a sad git."  
"You sound like a hard working copper to me. Still liking MIT?"  
"Yeah. Can't imagine wanting to do anything else for a while."

Talking about work occupied them for the length of two pints before Mickey decided he needed to switch to a soft drink. The more they spoke the more Mickey felt their previous ease of speech returning. Almost without thinking they left the pub and went to have a meal, taking advantage of the 'Early Bird' terms in the little Italian restaurant around the corner. Half way through the meal Mickey asked,  
"You’re not going to get it in the neck for this, are you?"  
"For what?"  
"Having a meal with me."  
"Doubt it," Craig replied shortly.  
"Won't Luke be wondering where you are?" he asked, knowing he was pushing his luck.  
"Luke will be out with his pals tonight, doing their own thing," Craig replied with a tinge of bitterness.  
Mickey finished his mouthful of pasta before saying curiously,  
"Don't you see each other every day?"  
Craig shook his head then finished his half glass of wine in one, calling the waiter over for a refill immediately. Mickey waited patiently until the waiter was out of earshot for Craig to continue.  
"Luke likes his own space."  
Mickey shrugged.  
"A lot of people are like that."  
"Yeah," Craig replied looking into his wine.

Finishing the meal with several cups of coffee they paid and then left.  
"Do you want a lift home?" Mickey asked, knowing Craig was well over the limit for driving.  
"It's OK. It's out of your way, I'll walk."  
"It's no trouble, Craig."  
Within seconds Craig had relented and they were getting into Mickey's car. A few minutes later they were drawing up to Craig's house.  
"Thanks, Mickey. I really enjoyed the meal." Craig looked very sincere when he spoke.  
"So did I."  
Craig sat considering his next question for a few seconds. He had almost decided not to ask when Mickey touched his arm, questioning without words.  
"I enjoyed this evening."  
Mickey nodded.  
"You said."  
"Want to do it again, sometime?"  
"Isn't Luke going to get a bit annoyed, or aren't you going to tell him?"  
"Luke doesn't really like eating out one on one with me," Craig admitted looking straight ahead through the windscreen.   
"He prefers home cooking?"  
"Only his own. He's more into going to the gym then out to the clubs. I think I'm a bit old to appreciate that lifestyle."  
Mickey shook his head. He had loved it when Craig had cooked meals for him, apart from anything else Craig was a pretty good cook and Mickey found eating a good meal prepared with care and affection a sensual activity which quite naturally leant itself as a prelude to making love.  
"I don't think you're old. Are you sure he's not going to mind? I'd sure as hell object if my boyfriend was eating meals with an ex."  
"I can't see why he should. He does the same."  
Mickey frowned.  
"Craig, is everything alright between you two?"  
"Yes, it's fine!" he replied a little too brightly.  
You're a bloody liar, Mickey thought but said,  
"Well I like eating nice food with you, even if Luke doesn’t appreciate it, give me a ring."  
Craig turned and smiled at him.  
"I will, thanks."  
Mickey watched him walk up the short path to his front door. Craig turned and waved then shut the door.  
Driving home Mickey was turning over the problem of Craig's relationship in his mind. It most definitely looked like there was trouble in paradise.

Mickey wasn’t entirely surprised to hear from Craig three days later. He had kept a promise he made to himself, to allow Craig to come to him and not to force his hand in any way, his logic being that the drink and first meal might have been a spur of the moment impulse, any further invitations wouldn’t be.   
They arranged to meet at Craig’s local Indian, The Karachi Garden. As before, Mickey enjoyed himself. The food was good and the company even better. They drank coffee back at Craig’s house, chatting about their respective work. The murder enquiry had a suspect, but getting the proof was the problem at the moment. Craig told him that the number of drug and prostitution related arrests had initially risen sharply just after Revere had been murdered, then had levelled off again.  
“New gang moved in?” Mickey asked.  
“Looks that way, no-one known though, which makes it look like someone from outside the area.”  
“Unusual.”  
“Very.”  
They were quiet for a few minutes, Mickey was digesting the news.  
“More coffee?”  
“What? No. No thanks, I need to go soon. Need some shut eye.”  
Mickey got up and collected his coat. Unable to help himself he looked up at the darkened stairs, still mentally seeing Luke running down them.  
Turning back to Craig, he nearly reached up to kiss him; it felt like the right and natural thing to do. With an effort he restrained himself.  
“’Night, Craig,” he muttered, letting himself out quickly.

Sure enough a few days later, another missed call was Craig leaving him a voicemail message asking if he wanted to meet up, this time the venue was a Chinese restaurant. Again, all Craig seemed to want was someone to talk to. Mickey couldn't understand Luke; Craig was an entertaining companion, informed and well read. It wasn't any effort to have a nice meal and chat with him. Not that Mickey had any ideological objections to nightclubs, but he knew he certainly preferred spending an evening or afternoon with Craig to listening to overloud music in a darkened room with a load of other sweaty individuals.  
As before, coffee was taken at Craig's house. This time Craig let Mickey get the brew ready whilst he used the loo. Looking in his fridge for some milk, Mickey saw a stack of asparagus at the bottom, just above the salad drawer.  
"Milk's in the door shelf," Craig said entering the kitchen.  
"What do you do with that stuff?" he asked, pointing to the green vegetable. "Whenever I've cooked it, it's always been completely tasteless."  
"You boiled it?"  
"Yeah."  
"How long?"  
"'Bout ten minutes I suppose."  
Craig winced.  
"Lightly blanched is nice, for maybe a minute possibly two, with hollandaise sauce. Or you can char grill it, serve it in a warm salad, possibilities are endless."  
"Wouldn’t know where to start with hollandaise, can you buy it ready made?" he asked, adding milk to both coffees.  
"I assume so, it's nicer if you make it yourself, though. You want to try some?"  
Mickey rubbed his stomach and thought about it. Chinese being Chinese, he could eat a little more afterwards.  
"Yeah, OK, why not?"  
Craig smiled and started assembling ingredients; asparagus, eggs, butter, lemon juice, a double pan, cayenne pepper. Then he filled the kettle.

Mickey watched, fascinated, as Craig melted the butter, separated the eggs, boiled the water and set to work. It seemed so simple in the hands of a master. The eggs emulsified with the hot water, thickening nicely. He skimmed the melted butter then instructed Mickey how to add it to the sauce in a steady thin drizzle whilst he whisked the mix all the time with a balloon whisk in the top part of the double pan. Taking the top part of the pan off the bottom part when the sauce was done, he put it down on a pan stand then used the boiling water to blanch the asparagus. It literally took just minutes.  
He divided the sauce into two bowls and added a touch of tarragon to one, leaving the other as it was. He drained and stacked the asparagus spears into another slightly warmed bowl then swirled a spear through the dish of plain sauce, holding it out to Mickey, with his hand underneath ready to catch any drips.  
Mickey took the offered food from his fingers. He chewed boldly, licking up a stray drop of sauce from his lips. He laughed.  
"That's really nice."  
"Try this one," Craig replied, smiling and swirling another spear through the tarragon flavoured dish.  
Again Mickey took the vegetable from his fingers, his tongue swiping Craig's sauce laden fingers.   
Craig's mouth dried. How could someone licking hollandaise from his fingertips feel this erotic? He could feel his breathing speeding up as he watched Mickey's smiling lips shining slightly with a combination of sauce and saliva from where he had licked his lips.  
"Prefer the first one, that one is a bit strong flavoured," he commented.  
With an effort Craig dragged his mind back to concentrate on his guest.  
Mickey picked up a spear and swirled it thickly in the plain sauce, leaving it dripping. Craig took it from his fingers, biting down a little way past the tip, so Mickey could use the tarragon sauce for the rest of the stem. Following Craig's line of thought perfectly, he dipped the stem in the second bowl and offered the warm, fragrant result to Craig. Deliberately he took some flavoured finger as well as vegetable and sucked them clear of sauce.  
"Mmmm, I love the flavour of tarragon," he said softly, not taking his eyes off Mickey's face. He could see arousal blossoming in the dilation of his blue eyes.  
They waited for a few seconds, each watching and wanting the other. Then Mickey dipped his index finger into the bowl of warm tarragon sauce and held it above the bowl, the excess lazily dripping back into the container. Slowly Craig brought the sauce laden finger to his lips, cleaning the flavoursome liquid with quick swipes of his tongue before finally taking the digit into his mouth and sucking it, flicking the tip of his tongue around the nail, making sure no sauce remained. Regretfully Mickey let his hand fall, his heart hammering hard against his ribs.  
Craig dabbled his first two fingers in the tarragon sauce and painted a little of it on Mickey's bottom lip.  
"Are you sure you don't like tarragon?" he asked, almost whispering.  
Dreamily Mickey suckled on the fingers in his mouth, his eyes closing as he ensured no sauce remained.  
Slowly withdrawing his fingers, Craig put his index finger back in the bowl of plain sauce and dabbed it on his own bottom lip.  
Like a rabbit hypnotised by a snake, Mickey moved closer, his tongue lapping softly at Craig's lip. Every so often the tip of his tongue licked at the inside of his lip. Suddenly Craig's tongue was in his mouth and they were wrapped tightly in each other's arms. Mouth crushed against mouth in a kiss of immense need and desire. A moan, vibrating from one throat, felt and responded to by the other. Restlessly hands roamed over shirts, freeing buttons, and buckles on belts, lowering zips until both men were almost stripped. Craig picked Mickey up and pushed him until he was sitting on the worktop next to the bowls of sauce. He stepped back to tackle his trainers trying to free the knotted laces as fast as possible. Mickey watched for a second then dipped his fingers in the tarragon sauce and began to stroke himself with sticky fingers, all the while watching Craig. Taking in the amazingly erotic sight in front of him, Craig redoubled his efforts; eventually forcing his feet out of the shoes then surged forward, first of all taking a passionate kiss then burying his head in Mickey's lap.

Breathless, sweating and ecstatic, Mickey was straddling Craig's hips, both of them sitting on the kitchen floor with Craig leaning back against the cupboards.  
"God, I love hollandaise sauce!" Mickey muttered against Craig's neck, too spent to move.  
Craig laughed softly, holding him close, feeling very content and at peace.

When Craig's legs started getting pins and needles they moved off the floor and upstairs to the bedroom. Restlessly moving against one another, unable to settle at first, stroking, sometimes intimately, licking, caressing and holding each other, until Craig piled the pillows together and rolled Mickey onto his back. Taking him in to his body, Craig enthusiastically rode him to completion then collapsed in a dazed heap alongside his equally exhausted lover.

Mickey didn't mention Luke or his guilt at his betrayal of the young man and neither did Craig. The now illicit nature of the relationship certainly added a certain spice to their encounters. Mickey didn't ask if he was still sleeping with Luke as well as himself, he didn't even ask if he had spoken to Luke whenever they met up, either at his flat or Craig's house. Mickey felt as though the wonderful romantic, erotic bubble they created between themselves would stay intact if he didn't ask too many questions. 

His bubble lasted for just over a week. By the end of that week MIT had their suspect in their sights and were preparing to arrest him. At five am they were ready. The noise and confusion of many police officers shouting was designed to demoralise and confuse. It worked. Their suspect, Raymond Thomas, was still trying to get out of the clutches of one of his sixteen year old toms in the bedroom. The girl, Sophia, was screaming. Thomas was led away in handcuffs fairly easily, whilst Mickey had the unenviable task of getting Sophia into some clothes and then down to the nick. She was not a cooperative girl, either. Her repeated replies of, “No comment,” had begun to get to Mickey long before the end of the interview.   
As there wasn’t any evidence to tie her to Revere’s murder the duty brief got her bailed. As she left she turned with a venomous look at Mickey saying,  
“I’ll remember you.”  
“You do that, darling,” he threw over his shoulder, instantly forgetting about her.

At the end of his shift, Mickey was a happy man. Their suspect was under lock and key and he was up to date with his paperwork, both reasons to celebrate. He rang Craig who invited him over.   
They’d made love, had a meal, laughed and talked, watched a film together then gone to bed.   
"This is what a relationship should be like," Craig remarked then looked at Mickey. "You know, doing things together, chatting and talking as well as the sex."  
Mickey stayed silent, hardly daring to breathe. It sounded like Craig was wishing he had this kind of relationship but with someone else. He swallowed hard before asking,  
"You still seeing Luke?"  
"Sometimes."  
Craig went quiet then said,  
"I think he's only interested in me for sex and only when he can't get it elsewhere."  
"Why do you say that?" Mickey was surprised.  
"He would never have spent an afternoon and evening like we just did. He won't eat with me, doesn't want to even watch TV with me. He doesn't seem to want much of any kind of conversation with me."  
Mickey suddenly realised Craig had been lonely, even when he was supposedly in a relationship with Luke. He could not understand this. When he had spoken to Luke, it was obvious he still cared a great deal for Craig and the same with Craig for Luke.   
"You think he's sleeping around as well?"  
"Yes," Craig sighed. "I've smelt another man on him a couple of times after he's supposed to have been clubbing."  
The reason why Craig had looked so ill a few weeks before became apparent now to Mickey. He knew his boyfriend was playing around and using him, though still Mickey couldn't understand why. It was as if the Luke he had spoken to and the Luke who Craig was seeing were two different people.  
"Have you asked him?"  
Craig shook his head.  
"Not bothered about hearing the answer anymore," he replied, smiling at Mickey.   
Mickey's heart melted. He was more in love with Craig than ever and, though unspoken, it now appeared his feelings were reciprocated. A year ago he would have bet his pension that he would never have fallen in love, and certainly not with a man. But now, here he was, as besotted as any teenaged girl with her first boyfriend.  
Happier than he had been for a long time, Mickey slept very well that night.

Craig saw him to the door the next morning and waved him off before going into work himself. He was on early shift, as was Mickey, so they had arranged for Mickey to meet him at his home after their shift, go to the gym for a workout and then onto a cinema. The plan lasted until near the end of the shift. Craig’s mobile rang.  
“Hello!”   
“Hi Craig. Sorry mate, I’m not going to make the gym. Something’s come up here on the Revere case.”  
“Thought that one had been put to bed?”  
“Me too. I should be through here by about six. Shall I meet you in Bar Eight One about half past? We can have a drink then go in to see the film.”  
“Is that across the road or next door to the cinema?”  
“Next door.”  
“OK. I’ll see you there. Bye.”  
“Bye.”  
Craig pocketed his ‘phone and carried on past the end of his shift, then went to the gym alone. Seconds after he arrived back at home the doorbell went. Thinking Mickey must have managed to finish early he opened the door, the smile on his face evaporating when he saw Luke standing on the step.  
“Sorry, I can’t come straight in, I don’t have a key!” he snapped.  
Craig kept every expression off his face as he stood aside to let him in. He had more than an inkling this was not going to be pleasant. Luke stalked through to the lounge, Craig following more slowly.  
“Mind if I have a drink?” he asked, already opening the bottle of scotch and pouring himself a healthy measure.  
“Carry on helping yourself,” Craig replied sitting on the settee.  
Luke picked up his drink, not offering to fix one for Craig, and looked out of the window, he was sniffing. Craig knew there would be tears on his cheeks as well.  
“How long?”  
“How long what?”  
“How long have you been sleeping with Mickey Webb again?”  
Craig shrugged, half smiled then replied,  
“A lost less time than you were sleeping with Steve Appleton.”  
Luke coughed as he tried to swallow and breathe at the same time.  
“I only slept with him a few times. I wasn’t sure if we were going anywhere!”  
“You were just keeping your options open?”  
“He’d asked me. You hadn’t.”  
“No. I was trying to get to know you before I got you into my bed again,” Craig said sadly. “Perhaps that’s what I should have done, acted like Steve.”  
Luke wiped his face with his hand, pacing restlessly in front of the window.  
“I thought I meant something to you!”  
“I thought I meant something to you but you’d rather go clubbing with your friends than spend time with me.”  
“You’re always invited!”  
“Didn’t it occur to you I might prefer to do something else with my time? Read, watch TV, see films, go to the theatre?”  
“Is that what you do with him? Although for such a cultured relationship you seem to spend a lot of time in the bedroom!”  
“Have you been spying on me?”  
“No!”  
Craig raised his eyebrows.   
Luke looked away shamefaced, before he admitted,  
“Only last night. I saw him arrive so I stayed and watched.”  
“And didn’t see anything you liked?”  
“Why Craig? Why?” Luke turned his tear filled face on Craig. “I thought you were in love with me!”  
Craig clasped his hands in front of him and looked down at them.  
“Have you any idea how lonely it is being in love with you?” he asked quietly.  
“What?”  
“The whole Luke Ashton in never there, a huge chunk of you is always held back. I'm always left wondering what is going on. Wondering which man you’re going to come back smelling of tonight…”  
“Craig!”  
“..which nightclub I’m going to feel out of place at next. Which bunch of kids, ten or twelve years my junior, you’re going to drag me out to meet. That isn’t a relationship Luke. It’s you, out having the time of your life and me feeling like a spare part; no one to talk to, no one to eat with and most of the time no one to come home to. I’m thirty-four Luke, I don't want that kind of relationship. I’ve done all that. You need someone your own age, not me.”  
“What are you saying? You want a nice, neat, domesticated boyfriend to come home to?”  
Luke sniffed then gave a twisted smile. "God, played some kind of a cosmic joke on you, didn't he?"  
Craig stared steadily at Luke as he went on,  
"You want all the trappings and responsibilities of a happily married man, but you're gay!"  
"Is there something wrong with that? Not all gay men are into the scene, quite a number are like me; they want a decent, honest, loving relationship with someone who feels the same way.”  
Luke turned back to the window, unable to bear Craig's steady regard.   
“I love you Craig. I thought you loved me.”  
“You have a strange way of showing your love, Luke.” Craig paused then continued, “But, if it's any consolation, I’ll probably always love you, but I can’t cope any longer with the kind of relationship you seem to want.”   
He stood up and prepared to leave.  
“Where are you going?” Luke asked.  
“To meet someone.”  
“Mickey?”  
“Mickey. Collect anything you’ve left here and take it with you.”  
“Do you love him?”  
“Don’t forget to close the door properly on your way out.”  
“Do you love him!” Luke shouted after him.  
Craig collected his jacket, wallet and keys and left the house. Months of trying to talk to Luke about the way he was feeling, to no avail, had frozen any wish to bow down now and let Luke dictate the relationship. It had also frozen any guilt he should have been feeling at his betrayal too. Running into Mickey again, had given him a taste of what he really wanted; someone who wanted to spend time with him, not someone who wanted him to be a trophy ‘wife’, a smart accessory on someone’s arm. The older, more affluent, experienced man. This season’s ‘must have’ for the gay boy about town.

He looked back once to see Luke framed in the window then he resolutely turned his head forward.  
Out of sight of the house he rang Mickey’s mobile.  
“Hi!”  
“Hi Mickey.”  
“You alright, mate?”  
Craig smiled; Mickey couldn’t even see him but could sense something amiss.  
“Luke’s just been to see me.”  
There was silence on the other end of the line so Craig went on,  
“He saw you arrive yesterday and leave this morning.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yeah. Oh.”  
“Are you saying you’re not going to be meeting me tonight?”  
“No. I’m on my way. I’m walking, so we can have quite a few drinks. I’ve got something to ask you.”  
“Fire away.”  
“No, face to face.”  
“Come on Craig, what is it?”  
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I’ll be at the bar in about half an hour, alright?”  
“It’ll have to be, won’t it?” Mickey replied, half laughing.  
Craig laughed.  
“See you.” Then he rang off, still grinning. He knew Mickey would be consumed with fierce curiosity until he got there.

Mickey arrived at Bar Eight One a few minutes early. The large room was all stainless steel, light oak chairs, lowered lighting and happy, loud chatter. As it worked out cheaper here to buy wine by the bottle than by the glass he purchased a bottle of Pinot Grigio, a wine he knew they both liked.  
He was just putting the bottle down on a table with two empty glasses when he saw Craig open the door and look around for him. He lifted a hand to wave. Just behind him a smaller figure in a denim jacket stepped inside. Mickey looked at Craig then looked at Luke standing just behind and to the left of Craig.  
Luke strode forward into Craig’s eye line.   
The little shit must have followed me, he thought.   
Luke though, only had eyes for Mickey.   
A very much smaller figure in a dark blue hooded jacket and jeans darted in front of Luke and headed straight for Mickey.  
Luke saw Mickey’s eyes widen when he beheld the small figure, then he convulsed forward as the figure in front punched him in the stomach. On the second punch Luke realised the figure was holding a knife, its blade flashing in the artificial lights. Mickey put both hands to his abdomen after the second blow, leaning forward slightly as Craig put his hand on Luke’s shoulder and tried to pull him back. He hadn’t seen the small figure and he hadn’t realised Mickey had been assaulted.  
The small figure turned and Luke realised it was a young woman, not a boy, as he'd first thought.  
“Get an ambulance!” he shouted at Craig, fighting to get away from him. No one else seemed to notice the young woman skedaddle towards the fire exit at the back of the bar.   
“Leave Mickey alone. Your problem is with me, not him!” Craig said, raising his voice to get his message across over the noise in the bar.  
“Shut the fuck up, Craig and get an ambulance, he’s just been stabbed!” Luke shouted urgently, wrenched his shoulder out of Craig’s grasp and ran to Mickey who was swaying, his hands and clothing covered in blood.  
“Mickey, come on, lie down.”  
Luke supported Mickey and lay him down on the floor. Whipping off his denim jacket he rolled it into a thick wad and pushed it under Mickey’s hands then pressed down hard to try and stop the bleeding.  
“Mickey, do you know her, the woman who did this?”  
“I thought she’d punched me, I didn’t see the knife,” he gasped in reply.  
“Who is she Mickey?”  
“Sophia, Sophia Carleton. One of Ray Thomas’s toms. I arrested her yesterday.”  
Luke immediately processed the information; a revenge motive. Mickey had arrested her pimp so she was out to get him, may even be acting on her pimp's orders.  
Other people had now noticed something wrong. The bar staff were running around behind the bar trying to find the manager. One of the girls came across with a pile of clean bar towels. Gratefully Luke grabbed a couple of them and used them to bolster his jacket and try to staunch the blood. He applied as much pressure as he could. Mickey groaned in pain.  
“I’m sorry Mickey, I’m trying to stop the bleeding.”  
Mickey opened his eyes.  
“Luke?”  
“Yeah. It’s Luke.”  
He clamped a bloodied hand around Luke’s wrist.  
“Sorry Luke,” he gasped, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
“Don’t talk Mickey. Save your breath.”  
Mickey was gasping for air through his mouth as Craig skidded to a halt on his knees beside them.  
“Ambulance is on its way.”  
“Hope you told them to get a move on?” Luke checked, horrified at the amount of blood bubbling up through his fingers despite the pressure he was applying.  
“Craig, press on the top of my hands.”  
Craig tore his gaze away from Mickey’s waxen face and followed Luke’s orders.  
“You need to press down really hard.”  
Mickey moaned so Craig released the pressure.  
“No, don’t or he’ll bleed to death.”  
Craig returned the pressure, which, Luke noted thankfully caused the blood to flow less copiously.  
Mickey opened his eyes.  
”Craig?” he whispered.  
“I’m here, Mickey. I’m right here.”  
Mickey had difficulty focussing. It was getting very dark in here.  
“Craig?” he repeated breathlessly.  
“Mickey, I’m here. Don’t talk, love,” he said, leaning over so Mickey would be able to see him.  
Mickey’s eyes focussed on his face, he tried to smile at Craig but it came out as more of a grimace. His lips moved but no sound came out.  
“Shush, don’t talk, sweetheart,” Craig said.   
Looking at Craig’s face, Mickey gasped out,  
“L’ve ‘ou.”  
Craig stifled a sob.  
“I love you too,” he whispered.  
A slick and bloody hand took hold of his wrist then its mate took hold of Luke’s wrist, startling both men. Mickey was staring right at Luke and squeezing his wrist as much as he was able.  
The crowd of people in the bar were keeping a respectable, hushed distance from the drama being played out in front of their eyes. Conversation had dropped away, only the music playing through the speakers drowned out the painful sound of the injured man trying to draw enough oxygen into his body to stay alive.  
Faintly a siren sounded.  
“Tell ‘im!”  
Luke felt faintly ridiculous but somehow he knew exactly what Mickey was trying to do.   
“He knows,” Luke replied then looked at Craig who was looking straight at him. “He already knows I love him.”  
In the few seconds it had taken to look at Craig the grip on Luke’s wrist had slackened and Mickey's eyes had closed.  
“Fuck!” Luke swore. “Keep pressure on that wound,” he ordered Craig whilst feverishly searching for a pulse.   
“Shit, shit, shit!” when he couldn’t find one.   
He tipped Mickey’s head back to clear his airway. Still no intake of breath and no pulse. Raising both fists above his head he brought them down over Mickey’s sternum then began CPR. Fifteen compressions then two breaths, watching Mickey’s chest rise and fall with each breath forced into his lungs. Fifteen compressions, two more breaths. Fifteen compressions, two breaths. He daren’t even stop to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. Fifteen and two, fifteen and two.  
“Alright, we’ve got him. What’s his name?” an unfamiliar male voice asked him.  
“Mickey. Michael Webb,” Craig answered as Luke gratefully moved back out of the way of the paramedics to let them take over CPR.   
“How long has he been down?” one of them asked Luke.  
“About two minutes,” he replied.  
The two men worked efficiently and quickly, one cutting open Mickey’s shirt and placing two rubber pads on his blood streaked chest the other taking over CPR, keeping the blood and oxygen flowing around his body. Placing the paddles, the first man shouted,  
“Clear!”  
Mickey’s body jumped at the burst of electricity put through it.  
“Analysing. Clear.”  
He jumped again.  
“Analysing." The machine under his hands whirred and flashed up electronic messages. "OK, he’s in sinus rhythm.”  
Craig watched, bemused, as Mickey was quickly hooked up to two drips, loaded onto a trolley and transferred, at top speed, into the waiting ambulance outside.  
“Come on,” Luke ordered, grabbing his arm and dragging him along. The paramedic in the back let them in and then pulled the door shut.  
Siren’s and lights blaring they were off.  
The short journey to hospital was a nightmare but it was accomplished very quickly. The paramedic in the back never stopped working on Mickey all the way there. Luke could tell by the way the man was holding his lips in a rigid line that he was worried about his patient. Craig just watched, his hands clasped so tightly together his knuckles were showing pale under their covering of drying blood.  
A medical team were waiting for them at the emergency vehicle entrance. As soon as the doors were opened Luke and Craig were asked to get out fast whilst a doctor got in and started assessing Mickey's condition.  
The doctor began firing orders off over his shoulder then Mickey was taken out of the ambulance and wheeled, very fast, along a corridor, disappearing through a set of double doors to the right.  
Craig made to follow, Luke just behind, but a young nurse in a white coat firmly deflected them both.  
"This way, gentleman, we need some details on the patient."  
Craig tried to push past him but both Luke and the nurse held him.  
"Come on Craig, you can't do anything else for him. Let them do their job."  
Slowly Craig allowed himself to be led into reception where he was asked interminable questions about Mickey, some of which he couldn't answer.  
Then the waiting began. Luke used the time to phone through to both Park Rise and Kensal Green telling the officer on duty that neither of them would be on duty for the next shift. After he had managed to extract the information from Craig as to who to inform for Mickey, he also rang DI Friend. A male voice answered.  
"DCI Savage."  
"Oh, I was looking for DI Friend," Luke said.  
"Can I help? I’m DCI Savage, I work with DI Friend." Savage replied.  
"I'm ringing about DC Webb, Sir. He's in hospital, he was stabbed earlier this evening."  
"What's your name and which hospital is he in?"  
"I'm PC Luke Ashton and he's been admitted to Carwell hospital."  
"How is he?"  
"Not good," Luke replied, dropping his voice so Craig wouldn't hear.  
"Are there any witnesses?"  
"Yes, Sir, myself and Sergeant Gilmore, probably more people in the bar as well. We're both here at the hospital."  
"Right, leave it with me," Savage said. "And thank you for informing us, PC Ashton."  
Savage set the wheels in motion which would get a team over to the hospital for any information DC Webb and the witnesses could give them, as well as getting hold of what ever else the local police had gathered from people at the bar.

The nurse came to see them in the relative's room. Both men stood up as he entered.  
"Mickey's been taken down to theatre," he began without preamble. "There's a fair bit of repair work needed."  
"How bad is it?" Luke asked.  
"The knife cut into his stomach and liver, and he lost an awful lot of blood. I don't know exactly how much damage there is. He could be in surgery for several hours, if you want to go home and wait."  
"I'm staying," Craig replied.  
Luke nodded his agreement.  
After the nurse had left Luke got up to get them both some coffee. A few minutes afterwards several members of Mickey's team arrived, plus DCI Savage. Savage immediately went to consult with the medical staff and get his own update.  
DI Friend looked paler than normal as she asked questions and took down details. When Savage returned to the room he passed on his information, which was essentially the same as the nurse had already given to Craig and Luke.  
"Once the bleeding is stopped and repairs made he shouldn't be in any further danger. PC Ashton and Sergeant Gilmore saved his life by prompt first aid."  
"Luke did the work," Craig said immediately.  
Savage nodded, taking in the blood stained appearance of both men and the expression of worry and fear on Gilmore's face.  
"Well done, PC Ashton," Savage said. "I, for one, am very pleased you were there at the right time. After last year I don't want to lose another member of my team."  
"Thank you Sir."  
"Viv, keep me updated."  
"Sir."  
Savage smiled at everyone then left.  
Luke leaned over to Rosie and asked quietly,  
"What happened last year?"  
"One of our DC's was stabbed to death by a mentally disturbed young woman."  
Luke was sorry he'd asked.  
"Mickey said the woman who stabbed him was someone he'd arrested yesterday. He said her name was Sophia Carleton, one of Ray Thomas’ toms."  
Rosie took out her notebook and wrote rapidly.  
"Did he say anything else?"  
"No," Luke replied. The rest of Mickey's words were certainly not relevant to the investigation.  
"Ma'am?" Rosie said, going over to have a low voiced conversation with Friend.  
Friend gave quiet voiced orders then came over to Luke and Craig, handing them a card.  
"Can I ask you two to keep me informed on Mickey's condition? We're going to arrest Sophia for attempted murder."  
Luke took the card.  
"Yes, Ma'am," Craig replied.  
Abruptly the relative's room emptied leaving just Luke and Craig sitting silently together.  
“Thanks for what you did tonight, Luke. I didn’t even realise he was hurt.”  
“I won’t say it was a pleasure, I’d rather none of us were in here.”  
Craig nodded then fell silent again.

 

Many machine coffees later, in the small hours of the morning, the door opened to admit a weary looking surgeon.  
"Mr Gilmore?" he asked, looking between Luke and Craig.  
"Yes," Craig replied.  
The surgeon looked at Luke.  
"This is Mr Ashton. He's a friend of mine and Mickey's."  
The man nodded and lowered himself into a chair by the door.  
"I'm Mr Astwood. Mr Webb has come through the surgery successfully. There was some damage to his liver but not as much to his stomach as we first thought. The blood loss was the worst. He's getting that replaced as we speak. Now it's up to him."  
"Can we see him?" Craig asked.  
"He's not awake yet."  
"Please."  
The man sighed and looked at his watch.  
"OK. Give me ten minutes and I'll send someone to come and fetch you. You can only stay for a very few minutes. He's still in recovery; he hasn't got as far as ICU yet. You'll be required to wear masks as well. I don't want him picking up any opportunistic infections at this stage."  
"Thank you, Mr Astwood," Craig said, standing up and offering his hand.  
The surgeon shook his hand and then Luke's then departed.  
"We've got ten minutes, come on," Luke said, taking Craig's arm.  
"Where are we going?"  
"If Mickey sees you looking like this, you'll frighten him to death."  
Confused Craig followed Luke into the toilets and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was liberally streaked with dried blood and tears. Dried blood adorned his clothing; hands and he even had some of it in his hair. Craig saw Luke's point. It took a concerted scrubbing until the worst of it was off his face and hands, the rest of it would have to wait until he got home.  
A theatre nurse was waiting for them outside the relative's room. She handed them both a mask and asked them to follow her. She made sure all masks were in place then took them into the recovery ward.  
The room she led them into was dim and warm. Mickey was lying on his side in the recovery position, a nurse was positioning an oxygen mask, another nurse was recording his vital signs. A blood pack was hung up delivering red life into the back of his hand.  
He'd been wrapped in a blanket and around that was a metallic looking survival type sheet, there to ensure he kept his body heat. The nurse hung his chart on the end of the bed then went back to his head and started stroking his hair.  
"Mickey, Mickey can you hear me?"  
A faint grunt sounded from the body under the blanket.  
"How are you feeling Mickey? Are you in any pain?"  
A slightly more intelligent grunt which could have been, "Tired," emerged.  
"Alright. I'll ask you again in a while."  
She turned and looked towards Gilmore and Ashton who were hovering uncertainly.  
"He's not quite back with us yet, but he's getting there. You can talk to him but you might not get much sense out of him."  
She motioned them forward.  
Mickey looked a lot better than he had done lying on the floor of the bar. His skin tone was better and his breathing normal.  
"Hello Mickey," Craig said quietly, kneeling down at the side of the bed.  
A faint frown crossed Mickey's face.  
"You're looking a lot better." He stroked the side of his face and his hair as the nurse had been doing.  
Mickey coughed slightly. Immediately the nurse was back. She moved Craig and Luke out of the way, lifted the mask, wiped it out then used a tube similar to one used in a dentist's surgery to clear his mouth, and she never stopped talking to him, explaining what she was doing.  
"We're just going to make you a bit more comfortable here, Mickey. We've just taken the tube out of your throat so it might feel a little bit sore as well, but that'll go off soon."  
She replaced the mask and allowed the two visitors to go to him again.  
"It's Craig, Mickey."  
"Ayg?"  
"Yes, it's Craig!" Craig was smiling under his mask.  
A finger on Mickey's right hand moved slightly, so Craig held his fingers in his hand taking care not to touch the shunt or the bandage which held it in place.  
Mickey's lips flickered at the touch. Then the nurse returned.  
"I'm sorry you'll have to leave now, we need to change his drip."  
Luke looked up to the now empty bag of blood.  
Craig gently squeezed the fingers in his and left with Luke.

 

Exiting the hospital both men realised at the same time they hadn't any transport. Luke's flat was closest but his car was still parked outside Craig's house.  
Almost too tired to think Luke said,  
"Let's get a taxi to yours then I can get my car."  
Craig nodded and left the arrangements to Luke. He felt like death warmed over. First the scene with Luke yesterday evening, then seeing Mickey die before his eyes then all the waiting and worrying at the hospital. It had all taken its toll.  
The taxi driver was a taciturn individual when he turned up. Dropping them at Craig's door he took his money and left.  
Luke turned towards his car, his shoulders slumped and his arms folded across his chest trying to ward off the predawn chill, as he no longer had a jacket.  
Craig watched for a few seconds.  
"Luke."  
Luke stopped walking but didn't turn around. Craig went to him.  
"Don't drive, you're too tired. You can stay here tonight."  
"Your boyfriend won't like that," Luke replied flatly.  
"Please Luke, don't start. I'm too tired and I don't want to find out you've been in an accident because you fell asleep at the wheel. I don't want anything to happen to you."  
Luke considered the offer then turned around to face Craig.  
"Did you mean it?"  
"Did I mean what?" Craig asked in a very tired, long suffering tone.  
"When you said you loved me?"  
"I'm not in the habit of saying things I don't mean, not these days, anyway,” Craig snapped.  
"When you said it to Mickey?" Luke persisted.  
"Luke, I'm hardly going to lie to someone who is using his dying breath to tell me he loves me."  
Craig's throat tightened and he stopped speaking. His own words bringing back to him how close he had come to losing Mickey.  
Luke rested his forehead against Craig's chest, not bothering to question how Craig could love two people at the same time. His shoulders started to shake as he began to cry quietly. Automatically Craig put his arms around him, resting his cheek against the top of his head, letting his own tears fall freely.  
Sniffing mightily, Craig took them both indoors. Neither could be bothered to put sheets on the spare bed, or to scrub Mickey’s blood off. Wearily they undressed and crawled under the duvet of Craig's bed, as chaste and innocent as children, sleep claiming them almost instantly.

By the time Craig surfaced the next morning, Luke had already left. The first thing he did was to ring the hospital for an update. He got the usual check of his relationship to the patient then the message,  
"Mr Webb had a comfortable night, we'll know more after the consultant has seen him later on today."  
"Thank you," he replied.  
He thought about it and then hit Luke's number on speed dial.  
"Hello?"  
"As you saved his life, thought you might want to know Mickey's had a comfortable night, according to the hospital."  
Luke's voice held the ghost of a smile as he replied,  
"I know. I saw him a few minutes ago and spoke to the nurses."  
Craig was silent then laughed softly.  
"Why didn't you wake me?"  
"Because you looked absolutely knackered and the hospital would have rung if there was a problem. I didn't speak to him, he wasn’t awake."  
"How does he look?"  
"Better than he did yesterday. They're still giving him blood."  
There was a long silence, neither man knowing what to say.  
"Thanks Luke," he said very softly.  
"Yeah. See ya."  
Craig got up for a long overdue appointment with hot water and soap.

 

For the first day or so Mickey wasn’t very together. What little time he spent awake was used by MIT to take statements and check facts with him. Craig actually ended up spending most of his time sitting by his bedside whilst Mickey slept.  
Three days later he was moved out of ICU to a side ward.  
“I’m doing fine. No problems,” he boasted to Craig. Then said the same to Luke, who had been visiting him on the opposite shift to Craig. Mickey certainly admired the way they seemed to time their visits so they never ran into each other. Humans being humans though, their timing went a little awry two days later. Luke had come in to see him at the end of his shift, as usual. They had spoken, as usual. Chatting about what was going on at Kensal Green, news, anything. Mickey assumed he must have dropped off to sleep, as he was wont to do. The next time he opened his eyes his hands felt nice and warm but he couldn’t move his left hand, it was pinned to the bed by Luke, who had also fallen asleep at his bedside. Craig was sitting on the other side of his bed holding onto his other hand and looking at the top of Luke’s head.  
“Hi,” Mickey said.  
“Hi. Conversation must have been scintillating.”  
Mickey smiled, looking down at Luke with affection in his gaze.   
“Think he’s had a long day.”  
“Does he visit often?”  
“As often as you.”  
Craig’s eyebrows rose for a second.  
“Would you like me to leave you two alone?” Craig asked evenly.  
“No,” Mickey replied in the same tone, tightening his hold on Craig’s hand. “I wouldn’t.” He tugged on Craig’s hand, none too subtly reminding him he hadn’t had a kiss yet.   
The blonde stubble on Mickey’s face was quite soft, or at least by the standards of his own whiskers.   
“Mmmm, I miss that,” Mickey whispered.  
“Any idea when you can go home?”  
“No-one is giving me definite answers. They keep saying in a day or two.”  
“You’re going to need someone to look after you. Why don’t you stay with me?”  
Mickey looked longingly at Craig.  
“You serious?”  
“Very. Your bit on the side can still come and visit,” he added in a dry tone.  
Mickey grinned.  
“Don’t let him hear you say that!” Mickey’s expression sobered before he said, “It’s not going to be a pushover looking after me, you know. The doctor said it’s going to take quite a while before I’m fit again.”  
“Trust me. I know how long it takes. I was off for months after I got beaten up.”  
“Who looked after you?”  
“Parents. I went home to Wales for a while.”  
Luke chose that moment to wake up. When he saw Craig sitting on the other side of the bed he blushed and made to leave.  
“You don’t need to go on my account, Luke,” Craig said gently.  
Luke looked at Mickey for guidance.  
“You don’t need to go unless you want to.”  
Tentatively Luke sat down again.  
“How’ve you been keeping?” Craig asked.   
“OK. You?”  
“OK.”  
Silence.  
“I’m fine as well,” Mickey said, making them both smile. Then, as the awkward silence lengthened he said, “Oh, just go and get a coffee and talk to each other will you? I need a nap.”  
Luke immediately got up from his chair.  
“Night Mickey.”  
“See you tomorrow, Luke,” Mickey replied pointedly, as Luke left the side ward.  
Craig got up as well and leant over to kiss him. Craig was feeling Mickey’s absence keenly and put all his longing into the pressure of his lips. When he drew back he was slightly breathless; Mickey was frowning slightly.  
“Mickey, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  
“No, but I think I’ve got someone else’s dick,” he complained then brushed a light hand over Craig’s crotch, which had reacted normally to kissing him. “You’re still in working order.”  
Craig laughed as he batted the wandering hand away.  
“It’ll come back. Take it easy Tiger.”  
He bent down to give him a hug and whispered in his ear, “I love you.”  
The expression on Mickey’s face was incredulous.  
“You don’t remember, do you?” Craig asked staring into Mickey’s wide eyes.  
“Remember what?”  
“You told me you loved me, when you were lying on the floor in the bar.” Craig was worried now, what if he hadn’t meant it?  
There was a tinge of pink spreading along Mickey’s cheekbones.  
“I remember I wanted to tell you, but I thought it would frighten you off,” he said slowly.  
Craig smiled, relieved, and shook his head.  
“I don’t frighten that easily. Goodnight, love.”   
Mickey clung to him in a hug. “Goodnight, Craig,” he whispered.

“What made you start visiting?” Craig asked curiously as he and Luke sat in the coffee shop in the hospital.  
“I like Mickey. He’s always been nice to me. I wanted to make sure he was OK. It was a hell of a shock to see him bleeding to death on the floor.”  
“You like him? Despite what happened?”  
Luke dropped his gaze to his coffee from where he had been devouring the sight of Craig’s face.  
“I was being a prick,” Luke admitted. “And I did sort of come between you.”  
“It wasn’t all you. I seem to remember being there as well.”  
They drank the rest of their coffee in silence, both thinking. Craig knew he still loved Luke but he hadn’t been lying to Mickey either, he loved him too, but in a completely different way; and loving two men at the same time didn’t seem like a difficult thing to do either.  
Luke did like Mickey, he found him easy to talk to and to have a laugh with. With Craig he seemed to become tongue tied and clumsy but with Mickey he felt more able to be himself. He also felt responsible for Mickey, which was strange, given Mickey was older and well able to take care of himself, usually.  
“Want another?” Craig asked, breaking into his musings.  
“Please.”  
Craig purchased two more coffees and returned to their table.  
Luke fiddled with the cup and then the sugar bowl then started tapping his spoon until Craig stopped him.  
“Craig, ummm….”  
“Yes?”  
“When Mickey gets out of here….” Luke stopped again. This was going to sound really cheesy he just knew it.  
“Yes?” Craig repeated thinking this was like pulling teeth.  
“I sort of overheard you asking if he wanted to stay with you, so you could look after him.”  
Craig waited. Luke was refusing to look at him at all.  
“I sort of got used to nursing with MSF. Umm, we, ummm, we sometimes had to do a lot of it. I used to help Mum look after Nan as well, when she was ill.”  
A frown creased the skin between Craig’s eyebrows. Was Luke offering to help him look after Mickey?  
“You like nursing?”  
“Something I got used to. There wasn’t all the drugs and technology available in Africa, so we had to try and make the patients as comfortable as we could with what we had.”  
Craig propped his chin on his hand, preparing to listen. This was the first time Luke had ever spoken to him of his time in Africa, it sounded interesting.  
Luke looked up and saw the expression on Craig’s face.  
“What I’m trying to say is, if you want, I mean, I could help you nurse Mickey.”  
“That’s something I think you should talk to Mickey about.”  
“It’s your house.”  
“It’s his body.”  
“If he says OK?”  
“If he’s happy. Isn’t it going to be tough on you, seeing us together?”  
Luke stayed quiet for a minute or two.  
“Doesn’t matter, as long as you’re happy,” he replied in a low voice.  
Craig sighed and rubbed his forehead. Why was everything to do with Luke Ashton so bloody complicated? Here he was offering to nurse someone who was, in effect, the rival who had taken his boyfriend, a tough call in anyone’s book, and he seemed happy to do that, yet he couldn’t seem to do something as simple as sit down and have a conversation.  
“Talk to Mickey about it,” he said finally. “If he’s happy, I’m happy. You do realise you’re going to have to be living at the house with us?”  
Luke nodded. “I know what’s involved.” He glanced at his watch and got to his feet. “I have to go now Craig.”  
“OK. And…. Thanks, Luke.”  
Luke nodded at him, his expression serious as he left the hospital. Craig sat a little while longer finishing his drink. The only conclusion he came to was if he lived to be a hundred he would never understand Luke Ashton, the man was a bloody enigma.

 

“Do you want to have a lie down?” Luke asked.  
“No, I’ll sit in the lounge. I’ve had enough of lying in bed,” Mickey replied. “Wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea though,” he added turning his best smile onto Luke.  
Luke smiled back, helped settle him onto the settee with his feet up on a small stool and then went next door to put the kettle on.  
Mickey lay back feeling as if he had run a marathon when he had only walked out of the hospital into Luke’s car and then from his car into Craig’s house. Something he wouldn’t have thought twice about two weeks before. Now he was knackered. A few minutes later Luke bustled in with two cups of tea and a handful of tablets.  
Mickey’s face creased up at the sight of the pills.  
“Do you want water, or can you take them with tea?”  
“Can I have some water please? If they melt they taste even worse.”  
Luke put the tablets on the table and then fetched a glass of water. He was a little surprised that Mickey wanted to sit downstairs, by his pallor he was either in a lot of pain or very tired.  
Mickey took his tablets and drank his tea, absently watching a program on television. A short while later when Luke glanced at him he saw Mickey was sound asleep. Smiling he straightened him up and put his legs on the settee, choosing to sit on the floor beside him. 

Luke got changed ready for work a little earlier than usual and made a start on preparing dinner.  
He and Mickey ate together, a simple meal of tomato soup followed by grilled chicken, potato and a salad. After he had eaten Luke insisted Mickey go to bed. He really was tired but trying not to show it. Luke left him with some juice and water but he didn't think Mickey would be awake enough to drink it. He left a note for Craig, explaining there was food left for him and then went to work.

Craig found Luke’s note and smiled. It sounded like a note a wife would leave her husband:-

Craig,  
Some food in the fridge, soup on the hob. We’ve already eaten, Mickey might want something more later. He was sleeping when I left, think he’s in a bit of pain but he hasn’t said anything.  
See you later,  
Luke

Quietly he crept upstairs to check on Mickey. The blonde man was lying propped up on pillows at the edge of Craig’s bed. The duvet had slid down leaving him bare-chested, the dressing over his healing wound showing stark and white against his skin. He leaned down and covered him again inadvertently waking him in the process. Mickey smiled up at him.  
“Hi.”  
“Hi,” Craig replied, smiling and sitting down on the edge of the bed and switching on the bedside light. He kissed him gently then asked,  
“How are you feeling?”  
He wrinkled his nose indicating he didn’t really want to talk about it.  
“The nursing is pretty good in this establishment. He cooks well too.”  
Craig noted the water and juice as well as the tablets within easy reach.  
“He’s left me something to eat as well. Do you want anything more? Soup?”  
He thought for a second or two.  
“Yeah, OK. I’ll have a mug to keep you company.” Mickey made to get out of bed.  
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”  
Mickey fixed him with an odd look before saying,  
“I need a pee, unless you want me to do it here?”  
Craig laughed and helped him up. A few minutes later Mickey made his own way, slowly, downstairs dressed in Craig’s oversized bathrobe.  
“I was going to bring it up to you.”  
“I’m tired of eating in bed. I did nearly three weeks of that at the hospital. I need to get moving again.”  
He followed Craig back into the kitchen and helped him dish up his soup. They sat together at the table talking and drinking. Craig was hungry and finished his meal quickly whilst Mickey was doing his best to get through the mug of soup. Craig could see Mickey had lost weight; his cheekbones were more prominent and he knew from seeing his dressing changed his ribs were showing very clearly through his skin. The clothes he and Luke had fetched from Mickey’s flat were hanging on his frame now.  
“Come on, let’s go and sit somewhere more comfortable,” Craig said, helping Mickey up from the chair.   
They settled down on the settee, Mickey leaning into Craig who draped his arm around Mickey’s shoulders holding him close.   
Despite being an avid football fan, something he had in common with Luke, and there being a televised match on, Craig felt Mickey slowly leaning his weight against him more and more, until he heard his breathing pattern change to indicate he was sleeping. He minutely adjusted his position to make Mickey more comfortable and turned down the sound. Just sitting here, with a warm weight in his arms and the sound of his lover’s breathing against his chest was wonderful. Even though he didn’t really believe in any ‘god’ he breathed out a word of thanks to whatever cosmic agency had decided to let Mickey live.  
He stayed where he was until he heard Luke come in.   
Following the sound of the television Luke poked his head around the door. Craig smiled at him.  
Luke smiled at the picture of Mickey cuddled up close to the big, dark man.  
“Hi. How’s he been?” Luke asked.  
“He drank a bit more soup, but fell asleep during the match.”  
Luke raised his eyebrows at the one.  
“Has he had his last pills?”  
Craig shook his head.  
“I’ll get them. Do you want a cup of tea?”  
“Please.”  
Luke scuttled off upstairs to find the right tablets for Mickey.  
Craig rather liked his new domesticity. He was feeling a lot more comfortable with Luke now, their previous differences having been temporarily sublimated into caring for their injured friend. He wondered how long it would be before Luke got bored and wanted to go out on the town, as he used to. However, he couldn’t fault him so far, he was taking rather better care of Mickey than he had done. He hadn’t given a thought as to what tablets he should have been taking.  
He heard Luke come back downstairs then head into the kitchen; the cold tap ran for a few seconds. He heard the kettle being filled then a smaller vessel. Luke returned, minus his jacket, and carrying a glass of water with five tablets in the palm of his other hand. He crouched down in front of them both and stopped.  
“Seems a shame to wake him, doesn’t it?”  
Craig smiled at the compassion shinning clearly in Luke’s eyes.   
Luke reached forward and began to stroke Mickey’s hair, saying softly,  
“Mickey, Mickey wake up.”  
Mickey snuffled and stirred but didn’t wake immediately until Craig said,  
“Mickey, sweetheart.”  
“Mmmm?”  
“You need to wake up. You need to take your pills.”  
He grunted slightly and opened his eyes. Luke smiled and offered the tablets. Obediently he took the proffered medication and swallowed it with the water.   
“Come on, time for bed, said Zebedee,” Craig said jokingly.  
Both younger men looked at each other then turned to look at Craig.  
“Who the ‘ell’s Zebedee?” Mickey asked.  
“Zebedee, you know. The Magic Roundabout, that thing on a spring?”  
“Think that was a bit before my time,” Luke replied deadpan.  
“And mine.”  
Craig made a rude noise at both of them and shifted Mickey. Luke helped him up and said,  
“We’ll use the bathroom first, give Florence a chance to clear the kitchen.” He then ducked as Craig realised he’d been had.  
Their laughter marked their progress all the way up the stairs.  
Grinning, he washed up the few pots they’d used and put them away, then tidied around. Thinking that Luke might be hungry he bounded upstairs.  
Luke was just coming out of his bedroom having helped Mickey into bed.  
“Just wondered if you want something to eat?”  
“No thanks Craig. I’m going to turn in. I’ll maybe have something later.” He smiled shyly up at Craig. “Goodnight.”  
“Goodnight Luke,” Craig replied, feeling a moment of awkwardness. A short time ago it would have been him and Luke going to bed together.  
Craig locked up and switched off the lights downstairs, giving Luke a chance to use the bathroom unhindered then went upstairs. After using the bathroom he got into bed beside a soundly sleeping Mickey. He lay awake for a few minutes staring into the darkness thinking. If the rest of Mickey’s convalescence went the same way, it might not be too bad. To say he had been surprised at Mickey’s acceptance of Luke’s offer to nurse him was an understatement but it looked like it was turning out well. He smiled, remembering the brief moment when they had ganged up on him with regard to Zebedee. Still mulling over the day he drifted into sleep.

He awoke to early morning sun creeping around the edge of his curtains and both of them wrapped in each other’s arms.  
Mickey was awake and watching him.  
They kissed languorously, taking their time. Mickey tightened his grip, pulling them closer together, Craig’s morning erection digging into Mickey’s belly, then he felt an answering ‘morning glory’ digging into him.  
“Is that for me?” he asked softly.  
“Might be,” Mickey answered, grinning and very pleased with his body’s reaction. “If you play your cards right.”  
Warm fingers and a palm caressed Mickey, playing with him and drawing out his pleasure as long as possible. The act seeming to be more intimate than penetrative sex, both looking deep into each other’s eyes, catching each expression flitting across their faces, until Mickey’s eyes fluttered shut as he drew a deep shuddering breath and came in Craig’s hand.  
For a few seconds Mickey greyed out, then he came to, realising what the movement under the duvet meant. He knocked Craig’s hand away and brought him the release he needed.  
They dozed together for a little while until Mickey needed to get up and use the bathroom.

Later on Craig was pottering around the kitchen making breakfast for all three of them when he heard a knocking at the door.  
“I’ll get it,” Mickey shouted.   
He was obviously moving too slowly for the level of patience on the other side of the door. The knocking sounded again.  
“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” he shouted, irritably opening the door.  
DI Friend and DCI Savage were standing on the step.  
“Oh! Hello Sir, Ma’am.”  
“Mickey,” Savage replied gravely. “May we come in?”  
“Yes, sorry, Sir.” He stood back to allow them to get past him and then motioned to the sitting room.  
Craig poked his head out of the kitchen, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Mickey shrugged and followed them.  
“Sit down, Mickey,” Savage said, remaining standing, his six feet four inches dominating the room. Friend had already made herself comfortable in an armchair.  
“I’ll come straight to the point, we haven’t managed to capture Sophia, she’s gone to ground.”  
“Ah!” Mickey said, sitting carefully on the settee.  
“I can offer you police protection,” Savage went on.  
“I think I’ll be alright here, Sir. If the two coppers living here can’t look after me, I don’t know who can.”  
Savage smiled then said,  
“I’ll keep you informed on our progress. Ask Sergeant Gilmore and PC Ashton to keep an eye out for any strangers in the area as well.”  
Mickey nodded as Friend got to her feet.  
“If you want anything or you change your mind about protection, give me a ring,” she told him.  
“Thank you Ma’am, Sir.”  
Savage nodded.  
“We’ll let ourselves out,” he said as he strode through the door, Friend following closely behind.  
“Problem?” Craig asked when he heard the front door close again, Luke behind him.  
Mickey was still sitting on the settee staring into space.  
“They can’t find Sophia. Savage was offering me police protection until they do,” Mickey replied shortly.  
“Are you taking him up on it?” Luke asked.  
Mickey shook his head.  
“She’s not going to know I’m living here and anyway, I’ve got two coppers to look after me, why would I need anymore?” he said, trying to make light of the situation.  
Luke’s mouth smiled, but his eyes were solemn.  
Craig was silent.  
“Hey!” Mickey said to Craig.  
“I don’t want you going outside on your own until she is caught.”  
“I don’t think I’m up to going outside on my own!”  
“I mean it Mickey. Savage obviously thinks that there’s a possibility she’s going to try again,” he stopped speaking and looked at Luke. “And you need to keep an eye out as well. You’re the main witness.”  
“She won’t be stupid enough to come after me,” Luke protested.  
“She’s a vicious little bitch. You need to be careful, Luke,” Mickey said, more worried for Luke’s safety than his own.  
“If I can get some compassionate leave, I can take you both to Wales. We’d be safe there,” Craig said, making plans. “You should be able to get leave until she’s caught, Luke…..”  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Mickey said. “We’re not going anywhere. We’ll be fine here. She didn’t turn up at the hospital, which would be the easiest place to put me out of action for good. I don’t think she’s going to turn up here either. Savage was just keeping me in the picture that’s all.”  
“How did she know you were going to be at Bar Eight One?” Craig asked, the same idea occurring to Luke at almost the same moment.  
“She must have been following you Mickey, which means she knows you’d been staying here some nights,” Luke added sitting beside Mickey.  
“Guys, she’s a five foot four tom. There’s three of us, there’s no need to get so worried about her.”  
“That five foot four tom damned near killed you. You effectively died on the floor of that bar!” Luke said loudly, one hand going to hold Mickey’s face.  
“And you brought me back,” Mickey reminded him gently.  
“No, I didn’t. The paramedics did that.”  
For one moment Craig thought Mickey was going kiss Luke. They were so close, Luke with his hand on Mickey’s face and Mickey with both hands around Luke’s upper arms.  
“Luke, stop worrying," Mickey said, giving him a little shake. "You as well Craig,” he added turning to look at Craig’s worried face. “I’ll be fine; we’ll all be fine. Now, what’s for breakfast?”  
After a few seconds silence Craig smiled slightly. OK, so maybe he had been over-reacting slightly.  
“How does a full English sound?”  
“A bit much. Got any cereal?”  
“Yeah. Luke?”  
“I’ll do some toast,” Luke said, getting up.

There was a lot of low voiced conversation in the kitchen and it took a long time to get some cereal and milk into a bowl and make a cup of tea. Eventually he heard Craig shout to him,  
“It’s ready.”  
He hauled himself off the settee and went into the kitchen to join the others. Craig was demolishing his muesli, whilst Luke was finishing buttering a pile of toast. Halfway through the meal, Luke’s mobile phone rang. He nearly dropped it in his haste to answer.  
“Hello. Yes, Sir.” He listened for a while then smiled. “Yes, we will, thank you, Sir.” Then he hung up. He nodded at Craig and resumed eating his slice of toast.  
Mickey looked from one studiously innocent face to the other.  
“Either of you going to tell me what all that was about?”  
“Nothing much to tell,” Luke shrugged. “I just got a fortnight’s leave, starting today.”  
“A fortnight’s leave, just like that, no questions asked?”  
Luke nodded.  
Mickey turned his attention to Craig.  
“And I suppose your phone is going to ring and the holiday fairy will be granting you a fortnight’s leave as well?”  
Craig shook his head.  
“My fortnight starts when his finishes. One of us is going to be here all the time with you until Sophia’s behind bars.”  
Both men carried on eating as Mickey looked at them, stunned. Then he laboriously got to his feet.  
“Where are you going?” Craig asked.  
“Bathroom. Unless you're both taking turns holding it for me, now?”  
Luke put his head down, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter.  
“S’OK. I think you can manage to hold your own!” Craig replied, the corners of his mouth curling up in a smile.

Mickey had to admit having Luke there all the time was a good idea. Despite his bravado, he knew even a small woman the size of Sophia would present problems for him at the moment. He was also amazed that Craig and Luke had arranged to use their precious time off to look after him. When they had casually announced that at the breakfast table he had felt himself becoming very emotional, which was the real reason he had headed for the bathroom.  
Also he was getting frustrated that his body didn’t seem to be healing as quickly as his mind wanted it to. He was still in pain and needed his painkillers four times a day. The doctor had prescribed him another course of antibiotics as well, which he wasn’t particularly pleased about. Luke helped him with some very gentle exercise, guiding him around the tiny garden when the weather was nice or for short walks along the street. They played games, read the papers and watched television together or just sat and talked, though it was a while before the barriers came down and Luke admitted he knew he’d been stupid when he had been with Craig.  
“Why?” Mickey asked.  
Luke was silent for a long time before he said very quietly,  
“I was afraid.”  
“Afraid? Not of Craig?”  
“No. Of Craig finding out…….”  
“Finding out what?” Mickey prompted when the silence lengthened.  
“Finding out there’s nothing there.”  
Mickey was confused.  
“Nothing where?”  
“Here,” Luke pointed to his own chest. “I didn’t want him to find out there’s nothing behind the reasonable face and body.”  
Mickey was having trouble believing anyone’s self-image could be so poor.  
“So you used to get him out to places where it was impossible to talk. You idiot! Craig was madly in love with you, he adores you!”  
Luke shook his head.  
“Trust me. He wanted to get to know you …..”  
“Come on, Mickey, look at the type of blokes he’s been out with, with the exception of Carl Jones, they’ve all been well educated, well travelled and well read…..”  
“And you think you’re not?” Mickey turned his head so he was looking directly at him. “You worked in Africa, further than I’ve been. Neither of us have degrees but we’re not stupid. You’re good at your job and you’re a bloody good nurse. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for you!”  
Mickey looked the younger man directly in the eye. That Luke was uncomfortable with his regard was patently obvious, but he maintained the steady eye contact until Luke didn’t shy away.  
It was impossible to say who made the first move but suddenly they were kissing each other as if their lives depended on it. And it wasn’t boring! It was exciting, passionate and very arousing. Mickey was hard in seconds before common sense asserted itself and Luke pulled away.  
“Sorry, I’m sorry!” And he fled into the kitchen.  
Mickey sat still for a few minutes letting his heart rate get back to normal. What was he doing? He loved Craig, adored him, so why was he coming onto Luke? He felt guilty about betraying Craig but kissing Luke hadn’t felt wrong, it had felt wonderful, almost, but not quite as good as kissing Craig. Impatiently dismissing his circular thoughts, he got up to go and find Luke.  
Luke was standing in the kitchen, looking out of the window.  
“Hey!” Mickey said quietly, turning him around so they were facing each other.  
“I’m so sorry, Mickey. I’m supposed to be looking after you, not coming on to you…”  
“Shush. I think there was some of that on both sides,” he said, putting two fingers on his lips to quieten any excuses. He took Luke into his arms and they stood silently in the kitchen hugging for a while.   
They were still subdued when Craig came off shift.

After Luke’s startling revelations, Mickey began to pay attention to the way the other two men treated each other. There was an easy camaraderie between them, at first glance they looked to be what they were, good friends, then he started noticing other little things. A sort of wistful, haunting look in Luke’s eyes when they fell on Craig and he didn’t think anyone was watching him; the way Craig’s eyes would rest broodingly on Luke when he thought he was unobserved. Craig’s behaviour towards Mickey didn’t change; he was always unfailingly gentle and loving towards him, treating him with the utmost respect and affection. They made love whenever Mickey had the energy to spare, which wasn’t as often as he wanted, but Craig never complained. There was never any indication in either word or deed that Craig’s feelings had changed towards him. Mickey was almost certain, in fact, that Craig’s feelings hadn’t changed at all, which meant Craig had been sleeping with Mickey whilst still retaining feelings of more than friendship towards Luke, and Luke felt the same way.  
But what to do about it? That was the part which had Mickey stumped. 

Dinner had been particularly nice; a pasta dish with a sinfully rich cheese sauce which Mickey and Luke had cooked up between them and a green salad. As Mickey had finished his antibiotics the day before they had opened a bottle of wine to have with the meal. He’d had a couple of glasses but the other two had carried on and were making substantial inroads into the third bottle. They were playing a version of Trivial Pursuit which wasn’t normally seen, Sexual Trivia; Luke had bought it over the Internet a few days ago and this was the first chance they had had to play it and Craig was winning so far. For a gay man he certainly seemed to have a varied and in-depth knowledge of many heterosexual practices.  
As the game continued Mickey started to feel less well than usual. All the laughter didn’t help the pain in his side either which was now shooting up into his shoulder. It was also starting to make him feel a little sick too. He sat back in his chair, closing his eyes, hoping a different position might persuade the pain to leave.  
“Mickey? You OK?”  
Mickey opened his eyes to find two pairs of brown eyes regarding him anxiously.  
“Not really, no.”  
“Do you want the doctor?” Luke asked.  
“No. I’ll just go up to bed, you two carry on, finish the game.”  
“You sure you don’t want to see the doctor?” Craig asked, suddenly becoming serious.  
“I’ll be fine. Just give me a hand out of this chair.”  
Craig helped him up. Mickey picked up the remains of his glass of wine and together they slowly walked to the foot of the stairs. As he turned Mickey saw the wistful sad look on Luke’s face again, as he followed Craig’s progress from inside the lounge.  
“Mickey, are you sure you don’t want me to call the doctor out?”  
Standing on the second step up, he looked down into Craig’s face and smiled then kissed him, long and slow.  
“Do yourselves a favour and take him to bed,” Mickey said looking into Craig's dark brown eyes.  
Craig was so surprised by the statement he could only stare.  
“What?”  
“Take him to bed. You’re both still madly in love with each other, and he can give you what I can’t, at the moment.” Mickey knew he was probably cutting his own throat suggesting this, but it felt like the right thing to do.  
“But I love you.”  
“I know you do, and you love Luke as well.” Mickey ran his hand down Craig’s face, kissed him again and made his slow way into their bedroom watched all the way by a flabbergasted Craig.  
Weakly Mickey sat on the side of the bed feeling about a hundred years old. He picked up the bottle of painkillers and shook two out into his hand. Strictly speaking he should wait for at least another hour and a half before taking his next dose, but the pain was really bad. He took them with a mouthful of wine; another no-no, which Craig and Luke would throw a wobbly over, but he knew from previous experience it got the tablets working quicker. He finished the two mouthfuls of wine left and put the glass down. Getting undressed he slid gratefully into bed. Despite the constant pain, between the alcohol and the pills, he fell into a drugged, exhausted sleep within a few minutes.

Moving like a sleepwalker, Craig returned to the lounge. Luke was sitting on the other end of the settee, biting his nails. He’d heard every word Mickey had said. Craig remained standing in the middle of the floor and asked,  
“Is he right?”  
Miserably Luke nodded.  
“I’ll move out tomorrow, if you want me to,” he whispered.  
Craig shook his head.  
“We can’t leave Mickey on his own and running away from it won't help. You've tried that one too many times before.”  
Luke looked away shamed faced at the reminder.  
There was a few minutes silence before Luke asked,  
"Is he right about you as well?"  
Craig bottom jaw moved as if he were grinding his teeth silently. The silence was Luke's answer.  
Taking a deep breath Luke prepared to confess himself.  
"Craig, I've got something else to tell you."  
Craig didn't even look at him.  
"The other day, we'd been talking and…," he swallowed hard. "And, ummm…."  
"And you ended up in each other's arms kissing. I know, Mickey's already told me," Craig completed for him, without any change of expression on his face. "I know communication might seem like a strange concept to you, but Mickey and I do tell each other everything."  
"Obviously not everything. You're as surprised as I am," Luke surmised correctly.  
"Apart from this," Craig admitted beginning to pace.  
Silence descended.  
"Have you any idea why he said….that?" Luke asked.  
Craig shrugged. "He's got a ridiculous idea that he's not….putting out enough." Craig sounded irritated at having to tell Luke.  
"But he's been severely injured, he's still recovering."  
"So I keep telling him. It doesn't seem to make any difference."  
Craig glanced up to see Luke giving him a strange, assessing look. Suddenly recognising the protective look and the thought behind it Craig said loudly,  
"You can take that look off your face, I haven't been hassling him for sex when he's not up to it! What kind of a man do you think I am?"  
Luke relaxed minutely.  
"Sorry. I know you wouldn't do that."  
"So why were you thinking it?"  
"I don't know," Luke admitted honestly.  
Craig continued to pace the small lounge like a caged tiger.  
"Did you enjoy it?" he suddenly asked.  
Luke looked up confused.  
"The other day, when you were sucking face with Mickey."  
"Don't Craig," Luke said softly.  
"Don't what? Don't ask or don't go there?"  
Luke swallowed hard.  
"Well?" Craig asked roughly.  
He licked his lips and whispered,  
"Yes."  
"How good?"  
"Craig, please!"  
"No. Tell me. How good was it?"  
When no answer was forthcoming he asked again,  
"Was it as good as with me? Better? Worse? Were you getting off on knowing you were doing this behind my back in my own house? Was that your revenge on me?"  
“No, it bloody well wasn’t!” Luke yelled at Craig, jumping to his feet. “It just happened, OK?”  
“Do you like him?”  
“Of course I like him!” Luke replied, becoming more irritated by the second. “I like him a lot. He’s attractive, kind and compassionate and if he wasn’t with you, I would probably have made a play for him myself. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make you feel better?”  
Craig stopped pacing and looked down at the carpet.   
Sighing loudly Luke bent down to tidy the game away. He shook the playing pieces into a plastic bag, folded the board and collected up the few loose question cards.  
“What a mess this is,” Craig said quietly sitting down in a chair. After a few seconds he became aware Luke was laughing.  
“What?”  
“Maybe this is your answer,” he said, pressing one of the question cards into his hand and putting the now boxed up game at the top of the bookshelf. He collected up the empty wine glasses and bottles and took them through to the kitchen whilst Craig looked at the card.  
“What is the correct term for three people living in the same household?”  
His lips moved silently mouthing the answer before he turned the card and checked, ménage á trios. He took the card next door to the kitchen.  
“You serious?”  
Luke glanced up from where he was washing out the wine glasses.  
“Why not? We all have some degree of affection for each other. Mickey loves you, you love him. There’s certainly something between us and I really do like Mickey.”  
“Like?”  
Luke put down the bottle of washing up liquid with a sigh. “Alright, I love Mickey too.”  
“You ever had a threesome before?”  
Luke shook his head. “You?”  
The tell tale pink across Craig’s cheeks was a dead giveaway.  
“You old dog! When?”  
“Years ago.”  
“And?”  
“It was alright.”  
“Alright? You were in bed with two blokes and it was just alright?”  
“Mmmm,” Craig replied, a smile on his face and his eyes glowing, looking back through years of memories.  
Well if that was the expression ‘alright’ conjured up, ‘really good’ should have him rolling about on the floor, Luke thought to himself.  
Abruptly sobering as Luke dried his hands, Craig said,  
“Luke, don’t be offended if Mickey doesn’t want to do this, will you? It won’t be you, it’s because of something in his past.”  
“You mean that bastard who raped him?”  
Craig was stunned.  
“Err, yeah. When did he tell you about that?”  
“I was at Sunhill when it happened so I heard some rumours then he transferred out suddenly. I put two and two together.”  
Luke reached up and cupped Craig’s face between his hands. The skin of his palms felt damp against his face. Luke kissed him softly. The spark was there, the love was there, the excitement but something didn’t feel right. He pulled back and looked up at Craig.  
“Feels great, but something’s not quite right?” Craig asked.  
Luke nodded.  
“It was the same when I was kissing Mickey. It was a turn on, don’t get me wrong but….” Luke let the sentence drift.  
“Well don’t get your hopes up, or anything else for that matter, that he’s going to agree to this or that it’s going to provide whatever’s missing. OK?”  
“OK.”  
“And we don’t press him for tonight, either,” Craig threw over his shoulder. “He really didn’t look that well.”  
Luke grinned at his retreating back. Gilmore, in full mother hen mode, was a sight to behold.

Luke checked the kitchen door was locked and turned out the light, whilst Craig did the same for the front door and the lounge lights.  
“How are we going to play this?” Luke asked quietly.  
“By ear,” Craig replied ascending the stairs.  
In the bedroom Craig quickly and efficiently stripped off his clothes and slid into bed, Luke doing the same on the other side of Mickey. Mickey had rolled over and lay curled on his side, unable to resist Luke leaned forward and kissed the nape of his neck. Mickey smiled in his sleep and moved his head. Craig looked down at his sleeping lover, reaching out to stoke his face then kissing him gently. Mickey responded, deepening the kiss becoming more passionate and surprising Craig, who had thought that Mickey would still be too tired and ill.

 

Luke, looking on, licked his lips feeling his arousal grow exponentially. If just watching Mickey and Craig kissing was making him feel like this, seeing them go any further was likely to make his own involvement rather short-lived.  
Breathlessly Craig pulled back.  
"You're feeling better!"  
Mickey grinned and reached for him again.  
Craig kept his head out of the way.  
"Mickey, we've got something to ask you."  
"Oh I love it when both heads are talking," he replied with a dirty laugh, moving his hand down to Craig's groin.  
Craig laughed and held onto the wandering hand.  
"I think he means me," Luke said softly with a smile in his voice. He dropped a kiss on Mickey's upper arm, then insinuated his hand and arm between Mickey's arm and body.  
Mickey, suitably confused, looked at Luke then back at Craig.  
"What's going on?"  
"Nothing, unless you want it to," Luke replied looking at Craig. For a moment they shared a look of total understanding, leaving Mickey still floundering on the periphery.  
Mickey, still somewhat under the influence of his painkillers and the wine, was rather slow working out why both men were in bed with him.  
"Guys, I don’t need to watch."  
Craig and Luke smiled before Luke said,  
"We were thinking more along the lines of you joining in."  
"What? Both of you? You're kidding, right?"  
Neither man's facial expression indicated they were joking.  
"No offence, Luke, but I'm having enough trouble keeping up with him."  
"We'll do all the work."  
"We want to make love with you," Craig explained.  
Mickey quickly checked their expressions in the low level of light.   
"You're serious?"  
"If you don't want to, Mickey, just say the word and I'll go," Luke said, looking earnestly at him.  
"Craig?"  
"Your decision, Mickey. We go with whatever you say."  
To say Mickey felt overwhelmed would have been an understatement. He wasn't sure if Craig was quite happy to share him with Luke because he didn't care or because he did. After he had confessed his indiscretion with Luke, Craig had gone silent for a while but on being reassured Mickey wasn't entertaining any designs of leaving Craig for Luke he came round again. Or perhaps this was Craig's way of letting him know he wanted to go back with Luke? If that was the case though, why was he letting him make the choice? Surely he would have just started sleeping with Luke in the other bedroom.  
Mickey stroked the palm of his hand down Craig's cheek, his skin rasping against Craig's beard, trying to work out his options. Craig turned his face and kissed the palm of his hand. Mickey pulled his face down and kissed him voraciously putting all his love and longing into it.  
Craig moaned into his mouth, tightening his hold and temporarily forgetting Mickey's fragility. Abruptly Mickey pulled away and turned to Luke. For a second they looked into each other's eyes both seeing the longing for Craig mirrored back, then they were holding each other and kissing hungrily, Luke turning them both so that Mickey was on top, not putting any pressure on his injury at all.  
Craig studied the contrasting bodies moving in the bed beside him, the light and the dark one. Together like this they took his breath away. Mickey, pale and blonde, almost ethereal in his appearance at the moment, and Luke, fit, healthy and well toned. It looked as if a human were trying to capture an elf.   
Suddenly and ridiculously, Craig felt like an intruder in his own bed.   
Within seconds, almost as if he had sensed it, Mickey broke off the kiss and held out his hand to Craig. For a long moment Craig hesitated then slowly took his offered hand, entwining their fingers, allowing himself to be drawn closer.  
Even just touching his hand made him feel a part of them again. Luke was correct in his supposition, Mickey did complete them. All three of them together, openly and honestly, felt so right and natural; there wasn’t a trace of embarrassment or awkwardness. Sitting up and straddling Luke's thighs, breaking into his musings, Mickey tenderly ordered Craig,  
"Kiss him."  
Nothing loath, Craig leaned in, resting one hand on Mickey's thigh and stroking him, his lips meeting Luke's. A reciprocal hand stroked his back, getting excitingly closer and closer to his bum before moving back along his sides or his spine.  
Luke moaned loudly, Craig assumed he was enjoying his kisses until he felt Luke's attention wandering and realised Mickey was providing more enjoyable stimulation by stroking Luke's erection as well as teasing himself. He turned and smiled then looked back at Luke, communicating silently. Despite his quickened breathing Luke was quick on the uptake. Suddenly Luke heaved Mickey over onto Craig’s waiting arms. Mickey yelped in surprise rather than pain. Together, Craig and Luke positioned him on his back, Craig kissing his mouth and all over his face whilst Luke kissed his other head, interspersing his kisses with licks and sucking. It wasn’t too long before Mickey began to tremble under this dual assault. Craig gently patted Luke’s shoulder. Regretfully Luke pulled away with one last slurping lick. Applying his lips to safer areas he started to work his way up Mickey’s body, whilst Craig was charting Mickey’s body down the other side. When they met in the middle both reached to the other for a long, sensuous kiss before continuing onto their own personal goals. Craig kept his stimulation on Mickey as light as possible, helping him to spin out his pleasure and to make the most of it. Using his lips and mouth on Mickey, Craig used his hands to prepare Luke, deeply stroking lube into him. Luke got to his knees and pushed back strongly against Craig. It had been a while since Luke had made love with anyone and he knew his staying power wouldn’t let him win any endurance races at the moment. However the feel of those fingers deep inside was blissful. Feeling the telltale tightening and tingling beginning in his balls, Luke pulled away. Craig moved back as Luke quickly rolled a condom onto Mickey and then straddled him, allowing his own body weight to sheath the other man inside his body. Mickey was gasping and looking up at Luke, his expression one of amazed pleasure. Leaning down very carefully Luke kissed him then straightened up and moved, bringing them both surely and steadily towards orgasm. Mickey and Luke were too caught up in each other and the moment to pay any attention to Craig so he could watch as sweat beaded and ran down Luke’s spine. Mickey had his gaze firmly fixed on Luke’s face watching the expression of tender concentration deepen.   
Listening to them breathing in counterpoint was a lesson in self-control to Craig. He could have come from the sounds alone. A few seconds later, Mickey gasped, his fingernails scratching scarlet lines on Luke’s shoulder as his body convulsed and spread his seed inside Luke, Luke falling forward onto his outstretched hands a few seconds later.  
Mickey was nearly asleep when Luke rolled to the side and saw Craig’s brooding stare. Not breaking eye contact he knelt up, placing his hands against the wall at the head of the bed. Craig didn’t need any further invitation. Within seconds he was the best-dressed man in the bed and pounding inside Luke shortly after that.  
Briefly Mickey opened his eyes as the bed shook. He watched Craig and Luke for a few seconds before succumbing to sleep. Vaguely he heard Craig shout as he came but it felt like too much effort to open his eyes and catch Craig’s usual look of amazed adoration and lustful frenzy. Darkness closed in and he slept deeply.

Craig tucked the duvet around Mickey more securely before lying back down.   
Luke tucked himself on Craig's other side with a hugely contented sigh. Craig grinned into the darkness; he knew that feeling very well.  
He felt Luke lever himself up and take a look across his chest at Mickey.  
"He's dead to the world," Craig whispered.  
"I hope he liked it," Luke said; worry sounding even in his whisper.  
Briefly Craig touched the three scarlet stripes on Luke's shoulder with the back of his hand.  
"I think he might have enjoyed it," he replied in a dry tone.  
There was a few minutes silence then Craig's voice came out of the darkness again.  
"If we're going to be making a habit of this, there is something we need to do pretty quickly."  
"What's that?" Luke asked.  
"Get a bigger bed!" Craig replied, wriggling and trying to find a comfortable position when sandwiched tightly between two hot young bodies. Luke giggled softly beside him.

Craig turned over onto a blessedly cool patch of sheet. Slightly smiling whilst half asleep he pulled the pillow into a more comfortable position and began to drift off again but something at the back of his mind prevented him from going back to sleep.  
Why was there a cool patch of sheet in a bed which currently held three men? An odd noise brought him nearer to full wakefulness.  
He opened his eyes and looked around as his bedroom furniture took shape in the gloom. Luke was turned on his side on the far edge of the bed. Mickey was missing. The noise came again. Cautiously Craig got out of bed, picked up his robe from the back of the door, he didn’t fancy tackling any intruders in the nude, and opened the door. No lights were on anywhere. He wondered if Mickey had gotten too hot and taken himself off to the spare bedroom. The noise came again then his mind resolved it into the sound of someone retching in the bathroom. Pushing open the door and switching on the light he saw Mickey hunched awkwardly over the toilet bowl, as naked as the day he was born. His skin looked greasy with sweat and he was grey and shuddering. Every so often he lifted his cheek from where it was resting against the rim of the pan as another spasm of retching shook his frame.  
Craig picked up a bath sheet and draped it around Mickey's shoulders. He felt cold and clammy and seemed to be nearly unconscious.  
"How long have you been here like this Mickey? Why didn't you wake me?"  
Mickey just shook his head slightly.  
Craig knelt beside the sick man and rubbed his shoulders. Mickey moaned and tried to move away. Craig immediately withdrew his hands.  
"Where else are you hurting?"  
"Side and arm," Mickey whispered weakly.  
Craig got up and went back into the bedroom, switching on a bedside lamp and waking up Luke. He picked up the phone and rang his doctor's number, wrote down the number for the on call doctor and then rang it.  
"Hello, I'm ringing on behalf of Michael Webb, he's registered as a temporary patient with Dr Sadiq's practice."   
Luke listened as the tinny voice replied then Craig continued,  
"He's a police officer, he was stabbed about five weeks ago……Yes, that's right. Liver mainly. He's in terrible pain and can't stop being sick. His side, his shoulder and his arm. His right arm, yes."  
He listened for a longer this time then gave his address. "How long do you think the doctor will be?"  
The answer obviously didn't please Craig who said loudly, "He's in absolute agony now!"  
He listened again.  
"No, three hours is not good enough. He could be dying! No, he hasn't got bloody food poisoning, we all ate the same thing and we're OK."  
Craig's face was turning red with anger. Luke smartly hopped out of bed, pulled on his underpants, grabbing Mickey's robe as he passed the bedroom door and went into the bathroom. Mickey was near enough unconscious, sprawled on the bathroom floor. He covered him with his robe and ran back to the bedroom, nearly colliding with Craig.  
"Sod the doctor, get an ambulance, it looks like he's passed out."  
Luke ran back to the bathroom, hearing Craig giving crisp clear commands as to which service he required. Luke shifted Mickey around in the recovery position then ran a washcloth under the tap and wrung it out, using it to wipe Mickey's face and mouth. As he leaned over the toilet he saw that Mickey must have long since passed the point of bringing up food; it looked like he had been bringing up bile. That was the distinctive odour in the bathroom.  
Within a few minutes Craig returned, fully dressed this time.  
"Ambulance is on its way. Go and get dressed, I'll stay with him."  
Luke nodded and left. Throwing on his clothes from last night, he returned to the bathroom.  
Mickey was still laid out in the same position. Briefly he stroked the side of Mickey’s face before saying,  
“I’ll go downstairs and wait for the ambulance.”  
Distracted, Craig just nodded. Luke patted him on the shoulder and then went downstairs.  
Craig was feeling extremely guilty wondering if anything they had done in bed that evening could have contributed to Mickey’s collapse. They had both been extremely gentle with him, letting him take the lead and say what he wanted; neither had they allowed him to exert himself unduly. Still, the small voice at the back of his mind refused to be silenced completely.  
Craig heard the paramedics get out of the ambulance and saw the reflection of the flashing blue lights in the hall. Given the time, the vehicle had arrived without the sirens but neither medic seemed to see that three thirty in the morning was any reason to keep their voices down.  
"Morning!"  
"Hi. He's upstairs in the bathroom," Luke said, followed by the sound of several pairs of feet tramping up the stairs.  
"He was stabbed about five weeks ago, was doing quite well, but this evening he was in pain, went to bed early then we found him in the bathroom in agony and throwing up."  
"Stabbed?"  
"He's a copper," Luke explained. "We all are."  
The first paramedic entered the bathroom, smiled at Craig and began his examination whilst his colleague continued to take a potted history from Luke.  
"What's his name?"  
"Mickey, Mickey Webb," Craig answered.  
"Hi Mickey my name is Terry, I'm just going to take a look at you, see if we can find out what's wrong."  
Deftly Terry peeled back the robe and pressed around the stitched wound. Mickey tried to move away but was too weak to get far then he tried to sit up as he started to retch again. Terry helped him up and over the toilet bowl, Phil, his colleague, held him on the other side until he'd finished. Matter of factly Phil wiped his mouth and flushed the loo.  
"Can you tell me where else you're hurting Mickey?"  
Mickey took a few breaths before whispering,  
"Shoulder, arm, side, stomach…"  
"How long have you been throwing up?" Terry asked.  
Mickey seemed unable to answer. Craig shook his head.  
"Don’t know, I was asleep and I heard something and found him in here."  
"So he could have been in here for hours."  
"No, we checked him about half ten," Craig said, covering how they knew when Mickey had fallen asleep. "He was fast asleep then."  
"Did you all eat the same thing this evening?"  
"Yes, pasta in a cheese sauce and a salad. We also had some wine; Mickey only had a couple of glasses. He's only been off his antibiotics a couple of days so he hasn't been drinking at all. We're both OK, it can't be food poisoning," Craig said.  
"No, I don't think it is. Mickey, have you any pain radiating up into your jaw?"  
Weakly Mickey nodded.  
"Is the pain constant or does it come and go?"  
"Constant," he whispered.  
"Can't you give him something?" Luke pleaded.  
"Can you get his tablets together, please?" Phil asked, prevaricating.   
Luke shot off into the bedroom and returned with the tablets. He picked up the painkillers and counted them out.  
"He must have taken two when he went up to bed around seven."  
"You sure?"  
"Positive. There were twenty-four tablets left after his tea-time dose, and there are twenty-two left now," Luke replied firmly.  
Craig was impressed, he had no idea of how many tablets Mickey should or shouldn't have had.  
"Right, we'll give him something for the pain and to calm the nausea, all this throwing up isn't helping his stitches."  
Luke heard Terry ask for Pethidine then another drug he didn't quite catch the name of. He injected both drugs then Phil headed out to the ambulance to collect a chair. They wrapped Mickey in his robe and a blanket, strapped him in the chair and then took him downstairs.   
"You go with him, I'll follow on in the car," Luke said, remembering the last time they had been stranded at the hospital without transport.  
Craig nodded and got into the back of the ambulance leaving Luke to lock up and follow on.

The injections were starting to take effect in the ambulance, much to Mickey's relief, and Craig's peace of mind. By the time they had reached the hospital Mickey was drifting but starting to show signs of a fever. As before, Mickey was bundled away and Craig was diverted to reception to give his details all over again, which is where Luke caught up with him.  
Grimly they settled down to wait, both men going over in their minds if they could have inadvertently injured Mickey in some way. After an hour of fruitless speculation, Luke asked,  
"Do you think anything last night could have brought this on?"  
"I'm not a doctor, I don't even know what's wrong with him!" Craig snapped.   
A few minutes later Craig said more quietly,  
"I'm sorry Luke. I don't know what is wrong with Mickey. I thought we were being gentle with him but I suppose we could have caused internal problems. How are you, by the way?" He added as an afterthought. Craig knew he hadn't been at all gentle with Luke, in all probability he was the one with more damage.  
"I'll be fine," he replied, ignoring his aching muscles as much as he was able.

Several hours later a nurse came into the room.  
"Mr Gilmore, Mr Ashton?"  
"Yes."  
"You can see Mr Webb now."  
"What's wrong with him?" Craig asked.   
"He has cholecystitis," the nurse replied.  
At Craig's blank look, Luke translated.   
"His gall bladder is infected. Is it from when he was stabbed?"  
"More than likely. Follow me."  
They followed obediently, up to a side ward. Mickey was now bare-chested, wearing hospital issue pyjamas trousers and a heart monitor. They loitered at the door, unsure whether to approach him. He opened his eyes and smiled.  
"You can come in. I'm feeling human again."  
They sat either side of his bed, holding a hand.  
"This is like old times," he quipped.  
"What did the doctor say?" Craig asked, getting straight to the point.  
"Gall bladder is infected and needs removing. Doctor thinks it got nicked when Sophia attacked me but the antibiotics have been suppressing the infection…"  
"Until you came off them," Craig finished for him.  
"When are they going to do the operation?" Luke asked.  
"Later on this morning. What time is it? Shouldn't you be at work Craig?"  
"Just gone six, yeah I should be."  
"Go on. I'm alright now I've had some painkillers."  
“You sure?”  
“Course I am. I’ve got Nurse Ashton with me,” Mickey replied, deadpan.  
Luke smiled and even Craig managed to force a grin to his lips. He leaned over and kissed Mickey goodbye, then turned and looked at Luke.  
“Let me know what’s going on,” he ordered calmly.  
Luke nodded and put his face up for a kiss too but Craig didn’t see the gesture and left the room. Disappointed Luke looked down at the bed until he felt Mickey squeeze his hand. His eyes were full of sympathy and shared pain. Sometimes Craig could be inordinately thick.   
Gratefully Luke kissed his hand then his mouth.  
“Don’t take it to heart,” Mickey said. “He does love you.”  
Luke smiled without mirth. For a little while the night before he had managed to delude himself into thinking Craig did love him, was still in love with him. He knew Mickey loved him and the sex with both of them had been blissful. However, in the cold light of day, he knew Craig still didn't completely trust him and probably wouldn't ever again.  
“Not any more. He feels something for me. Not sure I would describe it as love.”  
There was a pause of a few seconds before Mickey asked quietly,  
“And how do you feel about him?”  
“You shouldn’t be asking me that.”  
“Why not?”  
”He’s your partner!”  
“No, he’s not. I’m living in his house so I can be looked after, and I sometimes sleep with him. He’s not asked me to move in with him permanently or anything.”  
“He’s not?” Luke was extremely surprised.  
Mickey shook his head.  
“If he did?”  
“You know what they say, it’s manners to wait to be asked,” Mickey replied, neatly sidestepping the question.  
“Well would you?” Luke persisted.  
“What do you think?”  
“I think you’d be mad to refuse him.”  
“So if he asked you, would you move in?”  
Luke stared. “He won’t ask me.”  
“Why wouldn’t he? He’s still madly in love with you and you are with him.”  
Luke was shaking his head in denial.  
“Luke, I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”  
“No, I wouldn’t do that to you….”  
“I did it to you,” Mickey reminded him quietly.  
“After I’d muscled in on your relationship with him before. I couldn’t believe it when you just gave him up.”  
Mickey didn’t say anything. He was remembering the long days filled with an ache he couldn’t describe. Going back to that again would kill him, he was sure.  
“Maybe it’d be better if he found someone new,” Mickey suggested, joking.  
Luke turned serious eyes on him and said,  
“If he did would you stay with me?”  
“You joking?”  
“Sorry, stupid question,” Luke said embarrassed, disentangling their hands and getting up.  
Mickey tried to catch his hand again but over-reached and pulled his aching side letting out a muffled exclamation of pain. Luke was back beside him in an instant, holding him then settling him back against the pillows.  
Breathing fast Mickey tried to will the sudden pain away.  
“Didn’t mean it to come out like that,” he said as his pain faded away to a dull background roar again.  
“I shouldn’t have asked.”  
“Yes, if Craig dumped us both, I would stay with you,” Mickey replied sincerely. He slid his hand to the back of Luke’s neck and pulled him down until their lips met.  
A lot later on, discreetly adjusting his jeans, Luke sat back down on his chair at the side of the bed.  
“A bit of a mess, all this, isn’t it?” Mickey said.  
Luke thought for a minute before remembering Craig’s words from the previous evening.  
“Well, we could go along with something Craig said last night.”  
“What was that?”  
“Carry on as we are but get a bigger bed!”  
“He said that?”  
“Yeah,” Luke replied smiling.  
Mickey grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”  
A few minutes later the anaesthetist entered the side ward to administer some pre-med drugs. Afterwards Mickey rapidly began to calm and drift in and out of sleep until finally he was taken to the operating theatre.   
Luke settled down to another period of waiting, although this time wasn’t quite as nerve wracking as the previous occasions.

All the way through his shift, Craig found concentrating very difficult. He knew he couldn’t ring Luke as he wasn’t allowed to use his mobile in the hospital so he had to school himself to patience.  
Just after eleven Luke telephoned.  
“Hi, it’s me.”  
“Hi. How’s he doing?”  
“Really well. He’s back on the ward and sitting up.”  
“Already?”  
“Yeah. It’s amazing. There aren’t any stitches; he’s been welded together again! There are only about four little cuts on his tum and he says he feels really well. That could be the painkillers talking though.”  
“When can he come home?”  
“If he stays as good as he is, probably tomorrow.”  
“That’s really great, Luke. Thank you so much for staying with him.”  
“I’m staying with him because I want to, it’s not a duty,” Luke replied smartly. “Probably see you back at the house.”  
“Yeah, see you later,” Craig replied, rather well aware he had accidentally insulted Luke but unable to see how to fix it. “Give Mickey my love.”  
“I will.”  
Craig listened to the dialling tone for a few seconds before mechanically putting the phone down. It didn’t matter what kind of conversation he had with Luke these days they always seemed to get on the wrong track. The only time they communicated clearly was in the bedroom and even then Mickey had to be there. Sighing heavily he couldn’t see a way forward at all. Struggling, he made an effort to put his personal feelings aside and get on with the job he was paid to do. 

At the end of his shift Craig got changed and began the drive home. A few minutes later his mobile rang. Pulling over he answered it worried in case it was Luke ringing to say there had been complications.  
“Sergeant Gilmore?”  
“Yes?”  
“This is DCI Savage. I’m trying to locate DC Webb and PC Ashton, I understood they were staying with you?”  
“Yes, they are. They’re not there at the moment. What’s the problem, Sir?”  
“Can you give me a location on them please? I need to take them into protective custody now.”  
“They’re both at Carwell hospital. Mickey was taken ill during the night, he’s had more surgery this morning!”  
He could hear Savage swearing under his breath then shouting orders.  
“Sir, why protective custody? What’s happened?”  
“We’ve received information that there is a hit out on both DC Webb and PC Ashton.”  
Craig leaned back in his seat. Both of them?  
“Sergeant Gilmore? Are you still there?”  
“Yes, I’m still here.” For a few seconds he was unable to think clearly then he made a decision. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”  
Ending the call, Craig calculated the quickest way to hospital from his present location then took off like a bat out of hell.  
DCI Savage screeched to a halt about three seconds after Craig abandoned his car in the car park.  
Instead of asking questions Savage simply followed Craig, at the run, up to the ward.   
Craig could not believe his eyes when he got there and saw an empty bed. Grabbing a nurse he asked breathlessly,  
“Mickey Webb, where is he?”  
“I don’t know. He was discharged a couple of hours ago. I would assume he’s gone home.”  
Craig looked at Savage who lifted his mobile.  
“Sir! You can’t use that in here. You need to go outside,” the nurse warned.  
“OK, OK.” Savage got to the outside of the building at a fast trot.   
The protection team waiting at the door stood to attention expectantly. Savage shook his head then hit a speed dial number.  
“He’s not at the hospital, has he arrived back there?”  
Savage listened then looked at Craig and shook his head.  
Craig was desperately worried now. He wasn’t sure if he could cope with losing either Luke or Mickey again but to lose both at the same time….  
“Where else would they go?” Savage was asking. “Come on man, think!”  
Craig could barely string two words together.  
“Ummm. I don’t know. I thought they would go home.”  
“Home! What’s PC Ashton’s address?”  
Craig rattled off the address which Savage relayed into his mobile.  
“Not sure but Mickey might have gone to see DCI Meadows, they’re good friends. Don’t know his address, sorry. Wouldn't have thought he was well enough though.”  
Craig fished his own mobile out of his pocket and rang Mickey’s home number. It just rang out.  
Savage had despatched the three-man team to find Jack Meadow’s address.  
“You and I can take a look at Mickey’s flat. Do you have a key?”  
Craig shook his head.  
Savage shrugged and opened the door, whilst Craig got into his own car his hands shaking as he turned the ignition key. This was his worst nightmare ever. Craig drove as fast as he possibly could to Mickey's flat. Every light seemed to be against him and the traffic crawled along but still he had parked outside Mickey's flat just as Savage drew up. Craig spotted Luke's car parked at the side of the road and nodded his head towards it. Both men took a professional look up and down the street, checking for any unusual activity. On perceiving none they crossed the street, shoulder to shoulder and entered the communal door to the flats. Quietly listening outside Mickey's door Craig could hear something, or someone, being dragged across the floor, all else seemed quiet. Savage noiselessly motioned to the door, which wasn't quite closed. Communicating silently, Savage and Gilmore kicked open the door then ducked back quickly, each using the wall on either side of the door. Craig risked a look inside and along the corridor towards the end door which lead into Mickey's bedroom. Both Mickey and Luke were standing in the doorway looking extremely surprised at the unorthodox entrance of their lover and Mickey's boss.  
"Gordon Bennett, it's the bleedin' Professionals!" Mickey said. "What the hell are you doing?"  
Sheepishly Savage and Gilmore left the protection of the wall and entered the flat, Savage closing the door behind him.  
"We've had information that a hit has been arranged. I'm taking you both into protective custody."  
Mickey and Luke exchanged a look.  
"No arguments. You don't need to take anything with you, we can get clothing and toiletries once we get you out of here."  
"He needs his meds," Luke said quickly. "They're prescription only drugs."  
"Are they here?"  
Luke shook his head. "No, they're in my car."  
"Then leave them. We can get hold of more."  
Savage dialled and spoke into his mobile then disconnected the call. Crossing the bedroom, he pulled the curtains closed then went into the lounge and did the same.  
"No lights please," he said, as Luke went for the bedside lamp.   
Mickey sat down carefully on the bed Craig going to sit with him.  
"How are you feeling?" Craig asked quietly.  
"A hell of a lot better than I was," he replied ruefully. "Just need the painkillers for a while longer."  
"Why didn't you go straight home?"  
A ghost of a smile touched Mickey's lips; Craig was thinking that his home was Mickey's home too.  
"I needed some more clothes and a couple of books."  
"Mickey, Luke!" Savage said, as he heard footsteps on the stairs outside.  
A coded knock on the door and Savage opened it letting in three men carrying firearms and wearing flack jackets and police type riot helmets with visors.  
"DC Webb came out of surgery this morning," Savage told Perkins, the senior officer. He nodded and said,  
"We'll take PC Ashton out first."  
"PC Ashton, there's a dark car parked in the street. You will stay in the middle of Higham, Fletcher and myself. You will place your right hand on my back all the time we are in the open until you get into the vehicle. Is that clear?"  
"Yes, Sir."  
"Come on, then."  
Luke barely had time to look at Craig and Mickey before he was hustled out of the building.   
Surprisingly quickly they heard a card door slam and then the engine roar off down the road.  
Perkins was back, this time with four others.  
"How fast can you move, Mickey?" Savage asked.  
"Not very!"  
Perkins nodded and spoke into his headset, two of the armed response team departed then he spoke to Mickey.  
"Similar procedure, Mickey. We'll escort you downstairs. At the outside door the other two officers will then join us. You'll walk between us all until you get to the vehicle. Get in as quickly as you are able. Is that clear?"  
"Yes, Sir," Mickey replied dutifully getting up carefully from the bed with Craig's help.  
"Can I go with him, Sir?" Craig asked.  
"Sorry, Craig, no. You'll get in their way. We'll follow them down," Savage replied.  
Mickey squeezed Craig's hand then walked forward.  
Again, Perkins took point, the other two officers falling in behind. Slowly they made their way downstairs, Craig and Savage trailing in the rear. At the outside door, the entourage made a brief stop to allow Mickey to catch his breath and so that the two other officers could join them. The ring of five men with Mickey at the centre made its slow way from the door to the car. A watching, brooding silence descending on the street. Weak sun peering from behind clouds briefly illuminated the scene throwing Mickey's blonde hair into sharp relief against the background ring of dark helmets and jackets.  
Craig, standing watching with Savage from the door as his lover was being taken away from him, and who would be kept away until MIT believed him to be in no danger.   
They were stepping off the pavement onto the road when suddenly Mickey's bright hair disappeared from view within the ring of men at the same moment two loud bangs echoed between the buildings on either side of the street. Craig rushed towards the small knot of people who were manhandling Mickey into the back of the car but he was expertly tripped and held down by Savage, who was yelling at him,  
"Get your bloody head down!"  
Craig was shouting,  
"No, no," and struggling with all his might, but Savage was a lot stronger than he looked and managed to hold Craig down until the car roared away up the road.  
"Clear, it's clear. That wasn't gunfire," Perkins was shouting both into his headset and to his own men.  
Cautiously Savage rolled away and got to his feet in one fluid movement, letting Craig clamber to his own feet. By the time he was standing Perkins was speaking to Savage then Savage returned to Craig's side.  
"You all right?" he asked.  
Craig nodded.  
"Don't ever do that again, Sergeant. You should know better."  
When Craig started to interrupt angrily, Savage held up his hand, stormy brown eyes meeting blue.  
"Neither do I want to know what relationship you have with either DC Webb or PC Ashton," he continued, guessing what Craig's next words were going to be. "You are a Sergeant in the Metropolitan Police, as such, you should know not to run towards apparent gunfire when SO19 are in charge of the situation."  
Craig simmered, his face red, as much from chagrin and embarrassment as from worry.  
"Sir," he muttered.  
"Mickey's fine. He tripped getting into the car, that's all. The noise was a car backfiring further up the street. Co-incidence."  
Craig breathed a huge sigh of relief.   
"Thank you, Sir."  
"All communication to both Luke and Mickey through me until this is over, OK?"  
Craig nodded, desperately unhappy with the situation.  
“What about the door?”  
“We’ll get it secured. Go home, Craig.”  
Craig contemplated the calm man with the curly grey hair. Despite his own six feet two frame he had to lift his head to look Savage in the eye. Suddenly Craig felt like an emotional mess next to Malcolm's cool, unruffled exterior.  
“Craig, me and my team will do everything in our power to keep them safe and sound. You have my word on that. Try not to worry too much.”  
He almost managed a smile as he replied,  
“Yes, Sir.”

 

Moving like an automaton Craig made his way back to his car, past gossipy neighbours chattering like magpies. Now that the excitement was over, the curtains were twitching back into place but the more up-front of Mickey’s neighbours were standing at their front doors, brazenly looking out onto the street.

The full effect of being in his own home, on his own, hit him as soon as he closed his front door. The incredible silence closing around him, alien and wrong. There should be muted voices coming from kitchen or lounge. Either Mickey or Luke should be asking if he wanted a brew or a glass of wine and there should be the smell of something being cooked for their evening meal. A cold hand clamped around his heart; what if it were to remain like this? What if Sophia or her paid assassins got past the protection squad?   
No, that didn't bear thinking about.   
He took off his jacket, hung it up and looked around for something to do, anything to keep him occupied. Remembering the mess in the bedroom and bathroom from the previous evening, he leapt lightly upstairs and stripped the bed, remade it with fresh linen then cleaned the bathroom, lastly laying out fresh towels. Taking the soiled sheets, pillowcases and towels downstairs he put them in the washer and set it going.  
Then he put away the few pieces of crockery left out from their meal the previous night. God! Was it only last night? Thinking about the night before reminded him that both he and Luke had managed to get only about four hours sleep. They both should be tired but the adrenaline was keeping him awake and tense. He wondered how Luke and Mickey were doing. If they were in the same safe house or if they were being kept separate?  
He wasn't really hungry and he certainly didn’t feel like cooking anything just for himself. He made himself a cup of tea. Going into the fridge for the milk he saw a lunchbox, packed with a salad and a couple of slices of cold meat. It had obviously been prepared and left ready for him to take with him today. He didn't even know which one had thought of doing that with the leftover salad. Somehow that bothered him even more. He really didn't have a clue which one had been thinking of his future welfare last night. Was it Mickey, who had been in pain for hours and hadn't said anything? Or was it Luke? Luke who had been looking after both of them, nursing Mickey and making sure they all ate well and healthily and also keeping the house clean and tidy. He hadn't even thought about all that Luke had been doing, he had been so wrapped up in his concern for Mickey. Mickey had noticed though. Noticed, thought about it and come to his own conclusions. Mickey had seen how Luke looked at him and had talked to him and got answers maybe he didn’t like, but he hadn’t turned on Luke, quite the opposite in fact.   
A conclusion Craig was rapidly coming to, was that he was a selfish, self-centred man who had taken them both for granted, Luke especially. He'd been treating him like an unpaid skivvy in a lot of ways then used him, quite unmercifully, to slake his frustrated sexual thirst for Mickey. Even knowing that Luke still loved him he had been cool towards him. Was that the kind of man he was? Someone who could be as vengeful as that?

He washed his cup, secured the house and went up to bed.   
The cool sheets and acres of empty space mocked him. His bed had been so full of life and love last night, but now was as desolate as an Arctic snowfield.   
Miserably he turned out the bedside light and tried to settle to sleep. Eventually he fell into a light sleep and dreamt of laughing blue and brown eyes looking lovingly into his, whilst young, strong bodies twined and rubbed against him and each other in the oldest sensual dance of all time.  
He awoke suddenly, a tear tracking a solitary path down his cheek when he remembered he was alone.   
Once all this rubbish was sorted out he made himself a promise; never again would he take either Luke or Mickey for granted.

 

The dark coloured car drew up outside a non-descript house. Luke was rushed from the car to the door and handed over to a tall man standing in the hallway at such a speed he had little time to assimilate his surroundings.  
The man held out his hand.  
"Hello, PC Ashton, I'm Iwan Thomas and this is Dave Jordon."  
"Luke." He half smiled and shook hands with Iwan, nodding to Dave standing at the other end of the hallway. With a name like Iwan Thomas he certainly sounded Welsh but his accent was cut glass English. Luke turned to look at the front door.  
"Luke, we need to fill you in on what's expected."  
"OK."  
"Don't go near the windows or doors unless you receive a specific command from either Dave or myself. Is that understood?"  
"Yes, Sir," Luke replied automatically responding to the tone of command. "Is Mickey staying here as well?"  
"Yes, he'll be brought here shortly. I understand he's not long been out of hospital?"  
"That's right, he came out this morning. He had to have emergency surgery to remove his gall bladder."   
Luke missed the brief hike of eyebrows from Iwan.  
"DCI Savage said he was arranging for another prescription to be filled out, we had to leave all his pills behind," Luke continued.  
"That's being done now. There's a change of clothes upstairs in the bedroom too. We had to approximate the sizes. Do you want a brew?"  
Luke nodded, distracted, he was listening for the sound of another car drawing up outside.  
Thomas nodded at Jordon who went into the kitchen to put the kettle on.  
"Why don't you go and sit down?" Thomas asked.  
"I'd rather wait here. Mickey was getting pretty tired."  
"OK. But don't open the door until I say so."  
The drinks were made before Thomas' R/T squawked.  
"ETA ninety seconds," the raspy voice declared.  
"Received," he replied, checking his watch.   
Within a minute the sound of a car stopping on the road outside reached Luke's ears. Thomas, standing behind the door, didn't make any move to open it until a further thirty seconds had past, then the door was opened very fast, Mickey handed through, and the door closed and triple locked once more.  
Thomas maintained a firm grip of the man in front of him. He looked close to collapse.   
"Mickey!" Luke said, coming forward.  
"I really need to lie down," he said quietly, grateful that the tall man was holding him upright.  
"Beds are made up," Thomas informed them both. "Let's get him upstairs."  
Between them, Iwan and Luke got Mickey upstairs and into the first bedroom. Thick curtains had been drawn in the room, making it very dim. Thomas' R/T squawked again as Luke knelt to undo Mickey's trainers.  
"You OK for a minute?"  
Luke nodded.  
Thomas left the room and went downstairs.  
"Hopefully that is your pills arriving," Luke told Mickey, who just nodded.  
Luke finished with the trainers, as Mickey struggled out of his jacket. Luke took the garment from him as Mickey started to take his t-shirt off. As Luke turned back from hanging his jacket in the wardrobe Mickey was sitting very still staring at his fingers.  
"What is it?" Luke asked.  
Mickey showed him his red stained hand.  
Swallowing his fear, Luke said,  
"Let's have a look."  
He gently pushed up the t-shirt. Two of the welds had begun to ooze blood.  
"Doesn't look too bad," Luke told him, with a confidence he was far from feeling. "Let's get that shirt off you, then I can see if there's a first aid kit around here."  
Carefully he removed the t-shirt, then helped Mickey to lie back on the bed. Thomas was standing on the landing looking in, holding a large white pharmacy bag.  
"Got his tablets."  
Luke took the bag and asked,  
"Do you have a first aid kit?" Then he added softly, "He's started to bleed."  
"Want me to take a look? I'm a trained medic."  
Luke nodded gratefully.  
Thomas went into the bathroom and retrieved the kit. Snapping on latex gloves he entered the bedroom and laid the box on the bed next to Mickey.  
"A bit late for introductions, but I'm Iwan, I'm a medic and I'm just going to take a look at you, OK?"  
Mickey nodded.  
Professionally and efficiently Thomas examined Mickey.   
"It's not too bad, I think when you tripped you ripped the surface a little, the welds are holding though. I'll just put some light gauze on here. Then I suggest you get some rest."  
Judging by his patient's pallor and diaphoretic appearance, he was in some pain. He taped the gauze into place then fetched a t-shirt from the drawers.  
"Here, put this on. We can get some more clothes for you later. Do you want to get him some water?"  
Luke padded off into the bathroom and returned with a glass, by which time Iwan had located the painkillers in the bag and had shaken out the required dose. Sitting up Mickey swallowed the tablets gratefully. This convalescence was turning out to be rather more stressful than he'd imagined.  
As soon as he'd taken the pills, Luke was dressing him in the new t-shirt.  
"Do you want any help?" Iwan asked.  
"It's OK, we can manage, thank you."  
Iwan nodded.  
"I'll be downstairs if you need me. Remember, don't go near the windows."  
"Can we use the bedside lights?" Luke asked.  
"Yeah, curtains are backed with blackout material."  
Luke nodded and continued with his task.  
Iwan stayed for a few seconds observing Luke and Mickey together. Judging by the passive way Mickey obeyed Luke and the way they touched each other, Iwan gathered they were very close. In fact he didn't think they would be sleeping in separate beds. Savage hadn't informed him that he and Dave would be babysitting a pair of gay coppers, but then again, Thomas occasionally had his suspicions about Savage that way as well. Picking up his discarded gloves he made his way downstairs.  
"He OK?" Jordon asked in between gulps of coffee.  
"He should be," Thomas replied, discarding the gloves in the bin. "Ashton seems like a competent nurse."  
"He's done plenty of it," Jordon said, throwing a file across to Thomas.  
Thomas scan read the information and nodded. Nancy boy or not, Ashton had some guts to work in the Sudan for a medical charity. Switching sheets he glanced at DC Webb's potted history too. On paper they both appeared to be brave blokes.  
"Need to get onto Savage, Webb's going to need more clothes."  
Jordon raised his eyebrows.  
"Skin welds ripped a bit when there were getting him out."  
"Poor bastard! Been out of hospital after major surgery, for less than six hours and ends up in here, instead of being coddled at home."  
"Well, we're going to make sure they both survive so their nearest and dearest can coddle them."  
"Don't we always?" Jordon asked, tipping the dregs of his drink down the sink and swilling his cup.  
Thomas grinned at Jordon's phlegmatic reply. Jordon didn't give a damn about what his charges got up to in private, as long as they were always handed over in one piece at the end of it all.

 

A persistent ringing had Craig hitting his alarm clock. When the noise refused to stop he opened his eyes and realised it was the telephone not his alarm clock.  
“Hello.”  
“Craig?”  
“Yes.”  
“It’s DCI Savage. I was hoping to catch you before you went on duty. Could you bring a couple of changes of clothes for PC Ashton and DC Webb with you to the station and I’ll have someone pick them up?”  
“Yes Sir.”  
“Put in a couple of extra tops for DC Webb as well please; the others are a bit bloodstained.”  
”Bloodstained? What the hell’s happened?” Craig shouted.  
“Craig, nothing. Calm down. It was when he tripped getting into the car, a couple of the skin welds started to ooze. It’s nothing serious, he’s been checked out by a qualified medic.”  
“You sure?” Craig questioned, his worry for Mickey overruling his respect for a superior officer.  
“I’m sure he’s OK, Craig. They both are. PC Ashton is a very good nurse.”  
Savage didn’t bother to mention that it had been reported back to him that only one bed was being slept in.  
“Any news on Sophia?” Craig asked.  
“A few leads but that’s all I can say at the moment. I’ll have someone swing by your office this morning.”  
“Yes, Sir.”

Replacing the receiver Craig leaned back on the pillows. He felt so cut off from both of them it was almost as if they were on another planet. At least Mickey and Luke were together, which comforted Craig. He knew Luke would never let anything happen to Mickey, he trusted Luke implicitly to take good care of him.  
Mechanically he got up and began to pack a bag.

True to his word Savage sent Rosie around to Park Rise to collect the bag of clothing. She was smiling happily as she relayed a message.  
“DCI Savage says not to worry, everything is under control and the leads are panning out.”  
He smiled back.  
“How long does he think it will take?”  
“A day, perhaps two.”  
“Can you pass on my thanks?”  
“Certainly can, Sarge,” she replied as she exited his office.  
Craig remained seated, smiling to himself. In a couple of days he could have Mickey and Luke back with him. He hugged the knowledge to himself like a soft, warm blanket on a cold night.

Two long and lonely days later Craig was making himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Early morning sun was shining along the hallway and it was very quiet. The sound of the key turning in the lock echoed loudly down the hall. The sight of Luke and Mickey standing shoulder to shoulder with sunlight streaming over them took Craig’s breath away. Blindly he held out his arms and gathered then closely. All three staying silent and just basking in each other’s company.  
“Oh I have missed you both,” Craig murmured softly.  
Mickey’s arm tightened, Luke being more hesitant.  
“Are you just going on duty or coming off?” Mickey asked.  
“Going on.”  
Mickey’s face fell a little but he recovered well.  
“Have they caught her?” Craig asked.  
To his surprised they both laughed.  
“I’ll put this lot in the washer, you tell him,” Luke said, going passed and on into the kitchen.  
Taking advantage of Luke’s temporary absence Craig kissed Mickey. He’d missed that as well.  
“Sophia’s still not been found but it now looks like we weren’t the intended targets, that was a mistake.”  
“What? All this for a mistake?”  
“Yeah. Savage rang really early this morning to say we were free to go! Don’t know about you but I want to go to bed,” Luke said coming out of the kitchen.  
“Me too. Don’t think either of us slept well in that house.”  
“I’m so pleased to see you both,” Craig said, kissing them in turn. “You go up, I’ll bring you a cuppa then I’ll get off to work.”  
Wearily they nodded and went upstairs.  
Carefully carrying two mugs Craig pushed open the bedroom door with his hip and checked on the threshold. Both young men were in his bed and fast asleep. Smiling Craig put the mugs down on the bedside table and tiptoed out.

For once Craig finished his shift on time and headed home. Now he had something to look forward to at home he wasn’t going to waste a minute of either man’s company. As he opened his front door Luke came running towards him, then, seeing who it was the smile faltered on his lips.  
“Is Mickey with you?”  
“No. I left him with you.”  
Luke shook his head.  
“I didn’t surface until after midday and I haven’t seen Mickey since we went to bed. I thought he’d gone to see you.”  
“Try his mobile,” Craig ordered.  
Luke picked a mobile phone off the hall table and held it up.  
“He didn’t take it with him.”  
Craig swore silently under his breath and checked the time. It was now ten minutes to three.  
I’ve tried Savage, Friend and McManus, none of them have heard from him,” Luke said.  
“Meadows?”  
“Don’t know his number.”  
“It’ll be on Mickey’s phone!”  
Solemnly Luke handed over Mickey’s phone to let Craig see that the keypad was locked.  
“What’s the code?”  
“If I knew that I would have rung Jack myself!” Luke replied, hard and very sarcastic, walking past Craig and talking his jacket with him.  
“Where are you going?”  
“To look for Mickey, where do you think!” he yelled back.  
“How do you know where he is? Sophia might have got him, we haven’t a clue where he could be!”  
Luke sighed deeply, making a huge effort to control his temper.  
“I thought Mickey had gone off to Park Rise to be with you. He is madly in love with you, not that you deserve him. There is no sign of a break-in here, so either he was snatched on the doorstep, which is unlikely, or he went outside of his own accord. You can ask Savage to check in with Meadows and make sure he hasn’t gone to see his old mate, while I walk around the streets to see if he’s outside somewhere. One thing we both hated was being locked up when we were in that safe house, it was like being in prison under false arrest.”  
Luke punctuated his speech by slamming the door, hard, behind him.  
Drama Queen! Craig muttered under his breath, whilst hitting the speed dial for Savage.  
“I’ve already been in touch with DCI Meadows, he hasn’t been in contact with Mickey for a couple of days,” Savage replied to Gilmore’s blurted question.  
“Bugger!”   
Graciously Savage ignored the expletive.  
“Is there any sign of…”  
“No, no sign of a break-in, everything is in order here.”  
“Then I suggest you look in the nearest open space to your home, Craig. Neither of them liked being incarcerated. It was driving them crazy. That’s why I gave the order to release them as soon as I could. A bit quick actually.”  
“What do you mean, a bit quick?”  
“We hadn’t checked to the nth degree as normal, but I am happy to say, no harm done, everything checked out. And we now have Sophia in custody. Yes, she did try to hire a hit man but she was so high when he did it the would-be assassin absconded with her money!”  
“So it really is OK?”  
“It really is OK. Look for your nearest park, Craig. That’s where Mickey will be.”  
There was a pause of a few seconds before Craig said,  
“Thank you, Sir.”  
“Malcolm, call me Malcolm. After all I probably know more about your private life than most of your family and friends do!”  
“Thank you, Malcolm,” Craig chuckled. “Thank you very much.”  
“Just go and find him, let me know when you do, please.”  
“Yes. Yes, I will.”  
Craig ended the call and put on his jacket, slipping both his and Mickey’s mobile phones into his pocket. He had no idea of where Luke may be headed. Trying to think as logically as possible under the circumstances, he tried to remember where the open spaces were around his home. Most of the time Mickey had been with him, their time together had been spent usually around the house but they had taken a few walks together, usually on the way to a restaurant. Working out a route in his head which would take him past the most likely areas he set off. The locked private garden for the flats three streets away was obviously a no go, as the padlock was still in place on the gate. Just to be sure though, Craig peered in through the hedge; all the park benches were empty. The next garden, two streets away, was open. A young mother and a couple of children were playing on the grass inside, but there was no sign of Mickey. Craig tacked down to the canal and squinted along the towpath. He couldn’t see anyone walking or sitting on the low wall at the side of the path for as far as his eye could see. Walking along the towpath he exited across a footbridge and walked along towards the park. It was a posh name for what was basically a few swings and a roundabout for the local children. Graffiti adorned most of the concrete and rides but it did have a few benches scattered around. Craig was wishing he had left his jacket at home, by this point. The sun was surprisingly warm but the light breeze did little to cool him down. The little park was filling up with children who were taking a short cut on their way home from school, as well as Mums with even younger children in prams and buggies and push chairs.   
Craig scanned the open area. This really must be at the limit of Mickey’s strength unless he had taken a lot of rest breaks getting here. It had taken Craig almost an hour to get here, via a circuitous route, but he had been moving at a fast clip. At first Craig missed the blonde head. He only noticed Mickey when he caught sight of Luke sitting next to him. Closing his eyes with relief momentarily, he then made his way across to them.  
Mickey’s face softened into a smile as he saw Craig heading towards them, even Luke smiled at him.  
“Sorry Craig! I should have left a note. I didn’t mean to worry you.”  
Craig shook his head.   
“Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, fine. I just needed to get out in the fresh air.”  
Luke laughed.  
“Alright, as fresh as it gets in London!”  
“Hang on, I need to let Savage know you’re OK,” Craig said.  
“Savage? Why?”   
“Because we thought you’d been abducted,” Luke replied. “We didn’t know where you were.”  
“Oh shit!”  
Craig grinned as he found Savage’s number.  
“We found him. Yes Sir, he’s fine.”  
Craig listened for a few more seconds, grinned then said, “I will. Thank you, Sir.”  
“Well?” Mickey asked.  
“You don’t want to know.”  
Mickey smiled fondly at Craig.  
“You ready to go back?” Luke asked.  
“You two can go on ahead, if you want. I need to take it slow.”  
“You don’t seriously think we’re going to take you up on that, do you?” Craig said.  
“No, not really.”

The walk back was pleasant. It had turned into a lovely day, blue sky and high fleecy clouds above. They all talked and laughed and joked, even when Mickey had to sit on a wall a couple of times to rest. Craig knew he was getting very tired as they neared home, Mickey had taken his arm and was leaning on his strength more and more the nearer they got. Luke bounced on ahead and unlocked the front door, going straight ahead into the kitchen to put the kettle on then he went upstairs to change into a t-shirt, he had warmed up a lot on the walk home.  
“I started to remember clearly what happened when Sophia attacked me,” Mickey was saying as he stumbled through the front door.  
“All of it?” Craig asked.  
“Yeah, pretty much. I can remember seeing you coming into the bar, then Luke. I didn’t see Sophia at first. I thought she’d punched me, then I saw the knife when she went for me the second time. You’d rang me just before you got to the bar, you said Luke had been to see you.”  
Craig nodded as he helped Mickey out of his jacket and hung his own next to Luke’s on the coat stand.  
“I can’t remember what you wanted to ask me though. What was it?”  
Craig smiled sadly.  
“You can’t remember because I didn’t get the chance to ask you…” he gulped as his eyes started to fill with tears as he remembered the dreadful day when he’d nearly lost Mickey.  
“Hey come on. I’m OK,” Mickey said, taking Craig into his arms and hugging him.  
Silently Luke watched from the top of the stairs. He too wanted to take Craig in his arms and comfort him.  
“What was it?”  
Craig pulled back and wiped his eyes with his thumbs, as Mickey wiped away a stray tear from his cheek.  
“Sort of a moot point now.”  
Mickey raised his eyebrows.  
“I was going to ask you if you’d move in with me,” Craig continued.   
Mickey stared into Craig’s eyes, losing himself in the love shining from their brown depths.  
Luke put his hand over his mouth to stop himself making a sound as he watched Craig and Mickey sharing loving kisses in the hallway below him. Quietly he made his way to Craig’s bedroom, picked up his overnight bag, taking it into the spare room he began filling it with his clothes, stopping every now and then to wipe his eyes when his vision became too blurry to see properly.   
A few minutes later a hot cup of coffee was placed on the top of the dresser and a pair of warm, strong arms reached around and held him.  
“There you are. We wondered where you’d got to,” Mickey said, dropping a kiss on the back of his neck.  
“Congratulations,” Luke said softly leaning back slightly into the embrace.  
He felt rather then heard Mickey laugh quietly.  
“When I’ve had a rest, Craig thought we could go looking for a new bed. How does tomorrow morning, suit you?”  
Luke gently disengaged the imprisoning arms and carried on folding a polo shirt then placing it in the bag on the bed.  
“Think you and Craig will do better doing that on your own, you know what you like.”  
Mickey frowned confused.  
“Luke, what are you doing?” Craig asked, seeing him packing a bag on entering the room with two more mugs of coffee.  
Luke turned around then turned back to his task but not before both men had seen the tears shining on his face.  
“Luke? What’s wrong?” Mickey asked.  
“I’ll go. This evening. You two will want to spend time on your own.”  
Mickey and Craig exchanged puzzled glances.  
“What?” Craig asked.  
Understanding began to dawn for Mickey.  
“You heard us?”  
“I saw you as well,” Luke said, folding up a pair of jeans and wiping his face.  
Mickey took the garment out of his hands and threw it on the bed then turned Luke to face him.   
To Luke’s horror Mickey was laughing. Angrily Luke clenched his fists, ready to deliver a stinging come back. He was therefore totally unprepared for being kissed deeply and passionately by Mickey, then the same thing happening again, this time by Craig. As Craig’s tongue moved against his own, teasing then arousing him, Mickey’s lips were busy kissing their way around his neck until he whispered against his ear,  
“Plonker! He wants both of us to move in with him!”  
Luke broke off the kiss to look incredulously at first Craig then Mickey.  
“Don’t… don’t you want to?” Craig asked, not sure how to interpret the look on his face. “I thought you loved us both? You said you did.”  
“I do,” he said softly. “I just thought… I mean… when I heard you…..”  
“You are going to stay with us, aren’t you?” Mickey checked.  
After what seemed to be the longest pause ever, Luke nodded; he didn’t trust himself to speak.  
Mickey smiled widely, his hands going to the hem of Luke’s t-shirt.  
“Well how about we give that bed next door a good send off?” he asked as he stripped the shirt from Luke and kissed him.   
Over Mickey’s shoulder Luke could see Craig grinning happily, looking younger and more care free than he had done for months.

Luke sighed, completely content. Mickey’s hand tightened slightly across his chest, his breath blowing across the back of his neck, the front of Mickey’s body plastered to his back. He knew Craig was looking at them both, even though he couldn’t see it in the dark. Somehow he just knew. Craig pulled him close, tucking Luke’s head under his chin, trapping Mickey’s hand between their bodies, his arms encompassing both of them.  
“Happy?” Craig asked softly.  
Mickey kissed the palm of Craig’s nearest hand, as Luke dropped a kiss onto his chest, then brought up a hand to rest on, to stop Craig’s chest hair tickling his face too much.

Funny, Mickey thought, this bed didn’t seem too small when they were all cuddled up like this, their legs tangled together under the duvet.  
As he followed his lovers into sleep Mickey briefly wondered if he’d done the right thing by getting involved in this very unconventional relationship. He didn’t think it would exactly assist his chances of promotion at work, but then again Malcolm Savage was a decent bloke who tended to live and let live. Then he thought about what his life would be like without Craig and Luke in it. Unconsciously he tightened his hold on the two men. Between the three of them they completed each other. Together they became the heart, mind and soul of the relationship.

Oh yes, he had definitely made the right decision.


End file.
